Renegade
by Hockeyblonde
Summary: Yes I accidentally deleted my story while posting chapter 15. So to my readers and followers, I WILL be back, I promise. Just may take awhile to re upload all the previous chapters. Also sad I lost all my wonderful reviews. (Going to have a good cry now). For those new readers who need a summary- Negan takes a female member of Rick's group hostage... Read on to find out more
1. Chapter 1

He stood there, an imposing 6 foot 2 inch tower of solid muscle, leering down at them where they kneeled in a row with hands bound behind their backs and mouths gagged with dirty rags. His bat, wound with barbed wire, rested on his shoulder as he paced  
up and down the line. He was mocking them, cursing at them, trying to intimidate them, and he was doing a very good job of it, because every set of eyes was fixated on that bat.

Except for Fiona's.

She was watching the man instead of his deadly weapon. At first glance he would be called handsome- short dark hair slicked back from a square jawlined face and eyes the color of espresso. The shadow of a few days worth of stubble added a ruggedness  
to his features, and when he smiled, dimples unexpectedly sprouted in both of his cheeks. He was smiling a lot, actually, laughing at them in between numerous F—bombs, and to any outsider he would seem completely psychotic. But Fiona had  
a gut feeling he was more sane than any of them put together. There seemed to be a method to his madness, a working system behind his trained army of killers.

"Remove their gags," he ordered one of his men, motioning to the lineup before him. "I want to hear what they have to say."

A blonde scrawny man with a bad burn over half his face walked down the line roughly tearing off their gags. When he got to Fiona, he paused, leering down at her. Licking his lips suggestively, he made it obvious he was undressing her with his eyes. Suddenly,  
the flimsy olive tank top she wore beneath her jean jacket made her feel like she was naked before him.

Negan noticed his man had stopped. "Dwight!" he barked, strolling over to him. "Keep it moving! I'd like to get some fucking sleep tonight! It's been a long day!"

He eventually stopped where Dwight had been standing and looked down at the blonde female kneeling before him. "Huh", he muttered under his breath but loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. "You're a pretty little thing aren't ya?" He stroked his beard  
and smiled that cunningly evil yet charming smile again. "What's your name, gorgeous?"

It probably wouldn't help their situation any by antagonizing him, so without breaking his gaze, she told him what he wanted to know. "Fiona."

"Hi, Fiona." He held out his hand to her. "I'm Negan."

Was he really expecting her to exchange pleasantries and shake that hand? After just a few short minutes earlier when he had promised to kill one of her group in retribution for killing many of his own men? Either he needed to be an asshole  
or a nice guy because this schizophrenic villain act was making her head spin. And, if she was being honest with herself, confusing the hell out of her.

His hand was still outstretched so she shook it limply. But he closed his fingers around hers with a firm grasp and tugged gently, pulling her to her feet and closer towards him. She watched as his gaze, too, roamed slowly over her from head to toe. But  
his was a more controlled surveillance than Dwight's, as if he was admiring a work of fine art. His eyes lingered on her mouth, then the hollow of her throat where a small gold crucifix hung from a chain, finally moving down her thighs to her calves.  
Apparently he liked what he saw because another slow, sultry smile graced his lips once his eyes met hers agin. Damn the tight jeans she had shoved into her combat boots that morning only because her baggy cargo pants were in the wash.

"All set boss!"

Dwight's voice echoed through the clearing, breaking the spell and refocusing Negan on the task at hand. He reluctantly let go of her hand. "Get back in your place ," he ordered her softly.

Then he returned to the middle of the line, swinging his bat as he went.

"Time to get down to business. Let's start by telling me which one of you pricks is the leader."

After a moment's hesitation, Rick made himself known. "I am."

Fiona snuck a glance over at him and was terrified at how terrified he looked. He was always their rock, the Fearless leader, with an answer or plan for everything. This unexpected capture by Negan seemed to have stripped him of all his confidence. His  
eyes were wide and his whole body was trembling.

Get it together, Rick, she willed him silently. We will get though this somehow. We always find a way...

Negan walked over to Rick and without any of the same pleasantries he had previously bestowed on her, punched him square in the face. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out.

"That's just the beginning, motherfucker." He laughed as blood began trickling down Rick's nose. Then he got on one knee so he was eye level with him and spoke in a low, menacing voice.

"One of your group is going to die tonight and you'll have to live with that on your conscience for the rest of your life. All because you're a cocky little asshole who couldn't leave well enough alone."

"We were misinformed!" Abraham shouted from down the line.

Negan stood up and pointed his deadly bat at him. " Don't anyone fucking speak until fucking spoken to! I don't care WHO sent you after me and for what reason. You were the idiots who didn't do your homework ahead of time. If you did, you would  
have realized what a powerful, fucking God I am in these parts! And nobody fucking messes with me or my men! Whoever does, pays a pretty hefty fucking price!" He swung his bat towards them, demonstrating yet again the terrifying presence that was  
Lucille andthrew his head back and laughed, a maniac enjoying his own punchlines.

"So Rick, tell me why Hilltop sent you after me. did they promise a share in all their goods if you played mercenary for them?"

Rick nodded weakly. "Pretty much."

"Guess you and your group have had past successes at playing mercenary then?"

"We've done what we needed to in order to survive."

"So. Have. I."

Negan spoke those words with a slow conviction, driving his message home. "And that's why you and I aren't so different after all."

"So what do you want?" Rick spat out. "It's yours. Just name it. It's all fucking yours. We will give you half our shit like you said. Just please don't kill anyone. We all have different skills that can be very useful to you. We can make this work."

"You're still going to give me half your shit and work for me regardless if I kill anyone or not. You took down a fuckload of my men, Rick. More than I'm comfortable with. So taking only one of yours is more than fair. Hell, it's quite a bargain I'd say!  
So who's it gonna be? Should I give you the honor of choosing? Or would a simple eeney meeney miney mo game suffice?"

He began slowly pacing the line, pointing his bat at each prisoner as he went.

"Please!" Rick shouted. "Stop this! I said I'll give you whatever you want! Just STOP this!"

Negan paused when he was in front of Fiona. She kept her eyes on him defiantly, trying to act like she wasn't afraid but the rapid rise and fall of her chest betrayed her. He could even see her pulse racing on the side of her neck. A vision of him kissing  
that slender neck while she writhed beneath him hit so hard and unexpectedly that his breath caught in his throat. And suddenly all his well-crafted plans fell to shit. But when inspiration hit, it was usually best to go with the flow. A slow  
smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he contemplated all the promising possibilities. His smile turned into a full-fledged toothy grin and without tearing his eyes from hers, he called back to Rick, "Anything? You sure about that, cowboy?"

Fiona's eyes widened as she immediately understood his intention. Rick, on the other hand, was still so shaken up that he hadn't picked up on Negan's obvious insinuations and body language.

"Whatever you want," Rick croaked, his hand still held to his nose trying to stop the bleeding.

"Wonderful." He reached down and grabbed Fiona's hand, pulling her to her feet again. But this time he tugged harder so she purposely stumbled into him. He wrapped his arms around her snugly and squeezed her behind. "Can't wait to enjoy a piece of this  
sweet ass tonight."

Abraham, Daryl, and Rick all sprung up simultaneously in protest but Negan's men were there, with guns pointed at the ready which froze them in their tracks.

"No!" Rick shouted. "You can't do this! I didn't think you meant...I was talking about supplies... You can't... She..." His voice trailed off as he realized arguing was futile. "Please..." He dropped to his knees again in defeat and met Fiona's eyes,  
silently apologizing as best he could to her without words.

"I'll be okay," she mouthed back to him, doing her best not to cry. Negan still had his arms possessively around her and his strength made her uneasy.

"My men will be at Alexandria in the morning," he said to Rick. "Have supplies ready for us."

"With Fiona," Abraham demanded.

"Fuck no!" Negan couldn't help but laugh at the thought . "I exchanged taking a LIFE for her. You can bet I'm going to take my time and make sure I enjoy every inch of this sweet little body." He made a point of letting his hands roam inside her jacket,  
just skimming the undersides of her small breasts. She pulled away but didn't get very far. He just pulled her right back against him. "Don't fight me, gorgeous," he murmured low in her ear. "it'll only make things harder for you."

Fiona snuck another glance at Rick, a guilty one this time, and her cheeks warmed when he saw the way he was now looking at Negan with pure hatred like he wanted to rip him limb from limb. What must she look like to the rest of the group, letting Negan  
grope her like a common whore?

"So when can we expect her back?" Daryl asked angrily. "She's our Doctor. We need her."

"A doctor?" Negan looked down at her in awe and let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Brains AND beauty? Well, fuck me! I just hit the jackpot." He took her hand and started walking towards a black pickup truck.

"Tomorrow then," he called over his shoulder as a reminder. "Bright and early. Have everything ready. And if you try anything funny, just remember what's at stake." With that he turned his attention back to Fiona and said loud enough for everyone to hear,  
"Cmon baby, we've got work to do tonight."

"Fee..."

As they walked away from the group, the last thing Fiona heard was Rick moaning her name. She willed herself not to look back or she would surely break down right then and there. And the last thing she wanted to do was give Negan the satisfaction of seeing  
her cry.

He herded her into the truck and slammed the door behind her. Then he hopped into the driver's seat and they sped off into the night. 


	2. Chapter 2

Fiona rested her forehead against the cool window, staring out into the black night. They drove in silence for awhile and that was fine with her because the last thing she wanted to do was make small talk. She was drained, both physically and emotionally,  
and all she wanted to  
do was close her eyes and fall into a deep oblivion of sleep.

But from the sound of things, there would be no sleep for her tonight.

Not if Negan had anything to say about it.

Getting a sick feeling in her stomach just thinking about it, she turned her thoughts overto Rick and her friends instead. Had the rest of the Saviors let them go? How were they holding up? She hoped they wouldn't try anything stupid like try to  
rescue her. Actually, on second thought, how could they? They had no idea where Negan and his group called 'home." There obviously was more than one community since up until today, they had foolishly believed with their last attack, they had taken  
them all down, Negan included.

God, how wrong they had been.

Sitting up straighter she realized she should be paying more attention to where they were driving, but the dark woods looked all the same to her and unfortunately no familiar landmarks caught her eye.

How long had they been driving so far? What seemed like an hour was probably only mere minutes. Time had a funny way of distorting itself during stressful situations didn't it?

Meanwhile as Negan drove, he would sneak an occasional glance at Fiona from the corner of his eye. She was quiet and subdued, just staring blankly out the window. If he was exhausted, she had to be a thousand times more so. From being captured, tied up  
and gagged, to thinking she or one of her friends was on the verge of death, he was surprised she was holding up as well as she was. He had to give her credit. For such a tiny thing, she seemed stronger than she appeared. He was still finding it hard  
to believe she was a doctor.

"So are you really a doctor or do you just play one on TV?"

His voice sounded even deeper in the quiet confines of the truck. It was low, a little gravelly and had a bit of a twang. In any other circumstances, that voice would be described as pure didn't know why suchinappropriate thoughts  
were suddenly invading her doctor in her chalked it up to mild post traumatic stress disorder.

"I'm really a doctor. Or I was one. Back... then."

"What kind?"

"Pediatrician."

He whistled under his breath. "Wow. Tough gig."

She couldn't help but smile faintly at his accuracy. "It was."

"So what happened to the kid's eye?

"Stray bullet grazed him. Walkers had infiltrated our community and it was chaos. That night..." She shuddered just remembering it. "It was one of the most terrifying nights I've experienced since this whole thing started."

"I take it you were able to take them all down?"

"Yes. But it wasn't easy. And it came with a hefty price. We lost 3 of our people that night."

"Walkers, huh? Is that what you call them? We just call them zombies."

"How original," Fiona quipped dryly.

Now it was his turn to smile faintly. "Thanks."

She snuck a glance at him and saw that dimple reappear in his right cheek. He was charming. There was no denying that fact. But Fiona scolded herself to stop falling for whatever act he was pulling. She couldn't be that naive. He was a bully, but more  
importantly, a cold blooded killer.  
She'd heard about the horrible things he'd done to innocent people who didn't cooperate with him and it made her blood run cold. Hell, he was going to do the same tonight to one of her friends if he hadn't decided he was suddenly horny and let his little  
friend below his belt call the shots instead.

"We're here," he said, and her heart started to pick up its pace again. She didn't know what kind of community this was or what his living arrangements were. There was no way it could be as posh or as modern and comfortable as what they had in Alexandria.  
For all she knew, he was going to handcuff her in a cell and leave her there indefinitely.

Ok Fiona. You need to stop thinking, she scolded herself silently.

She peered out the window and saw a large mechanical gate being opened from the inside onto a paved driveway. He pulled the truck through and the gates closed again behind them. "What is this place?" she asked quietly.

"Old military base."

Sure enough, they came to the end of the drive and she saw multiple rows of two story  
barracks. He drove past them and stopped in front of a large red brick colonial house which was off to the side.

"Home sweet home," he drawled, cutting the engine. He looked over at her in the  
darkness and saw her hands had begun trembling in her lap. So he kept talking in an attempt to  
make her less uneasy. "This place was overrun with zombies when we came across it. Took us awhile to clear the place but, hell was it worth it. This here would have been a general's house. They always got the upgraded accommodations. And it  
is a pretty sweet spot. Hot running water, electricity, a small library- you like to read, doc?" He could tell she wasn't listening to him when she didn't respond. She was still staring blankly at the house. He hoped she wasn't going into shock or  
anything.

"It also has some damn comfortable beds. Especially the king in the master bedroom." He had a feeling that would get a reaction out of her and sure enough,she flinched at his comment which reassured him she was okay. Cmon. Let me give you  
the grand tour."

He stepped out of the truck and walked around to the passenger side. He opened the door for her but she made no attempt to climb out. He stood there with his hands on his hips while she ignored him and continued to stare straight ahead.

"'Cmon, doc," he cajoled again. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Don't make me carry you because you know I'd thoroughly enjoy that."

Fiona willed her legs which felt like lead to move and she slowly slid down from the passenger's seat, ignoring his outstretched hand which offered help. She started towards the house and heard him fall into step beside her.

A man was heading towards them smoking a cigarette. "All good, Negan?"

"All good. We are doing a pickup run tomorrow at Alexandria. I'll brief everyone in the morning."

The man stared at Fiona curiously but Negan ushered her to the door with a hand on the small of her back, without any explanation or introduction. "Gnite Bill," he said, and Bill knew to keep on walking, no questions asked.

Negan unlocked the door and stepped into a two story foyer. He flipped on the light and a chandelier blazed from the ceiling. He tossed his keys onto the hallway table and moved into the living room/library which boasted a fireplace and two walls  
of shelves filled with hardcover books. He tossed his leather jacket on one of the overstuffed leather chairs and turned on a small table light. A hardcover book lay open on it, with a pair of black reading glasses doubling as a bookmark. In  
any other time or place, Fiona would have drooled over a room like this. It was her idea of paradise. A cozy room with comfortable chairs to lose oneself while reading.

She wondered if the book and glasses were his but then quickly asked herself why she cared.

The doorbell rang and Fiona nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Stay here," Negan told her and returned to the foyer to answer it. She heard muffled voices which meant he must have stepped outside to talk. Unable to make out a word they were saying, she stopped listening.

The conversation lasted all of thirty seconds. He shut the door and she heard the ominous sound of the lock clicking into place before he reappeared in the doorway. Motioning with his head to follow her, he started towards the stairs.

Just do it, Fiona. You'll be okay. You're a survivor. Just remember, it could have been much worse.

She repeated that four-line mantra over and over in her head like a prayer as she left the room. He was waiting by the bottom of the stairs for her to go first. Like a real gentleman.

Right.

She knew he was watching her but she refused to meet his gaze. She didn't want to encourage him, and she was also afraid of what she would see in those intense brown eyes. But this was a business arrangement, nothing more. And it had saved her friends'  
lives. That's all that mattered right now.

The heavy footfalls of his boots behind her echoed through the quiet house and seemed to synchronize with her pounding heart.

"Turn left", he ordered her when she reached the top. There was only one room on that side of the landing-a bedroom-and the door was open so she walked right in. She had noticed two other rooms on the opposite side, which she assumed to be more bedrooms  
or a bedroom and a bathroom. Because this room didnt have its own bathroom. It was sparse but adequate, with a large bed in the center, a small dresser with a mirror on one side and a cushioned window seat on the other. The room was empty of belongings  
and the bed was neatly made, telling her it hadn't been inhabited in awhile.

Or maybe never.

And it certainly wasn't his room.

She backed up until her legs hit the edge of the bed and she had nowhere left to go. She slid off her jacket and wrapped her arms around her chest protectively. Then she finally found the strength to look up at him. His expression was unreadable. Maybe  
because it was such a mixture of lust, curiosity, admiration and indecision that each emotion cancelled another out leaving one hell of a poker face.

Her voice cracked when she spoke. "Go get it over with and please don't prolong it. That's all I beg of you."

Negan's eyes narrowed as he studied her intently. "I don't rape women", he said quietly after what seemed like an eternity. His answer surprised her because he said it with such conviction that she knew somehow he was telling the truth.

So in her state of semi-shock she resorted to her dry humor.

"Really? You're into men then?"

A small smile played at the corner of his lips which, dammit, he couldn't prevent from turning into a full fledged grin.

Dimples and all.

"No. No men for me."

"But... Why... Then what did you want me for?"

His eyes held hers again and whenever he looked at her like that she found it a little harder to breathe.

"Haven't figured it out yet." He pointed to the bed. "Why don't you get some sleep? We'll talk more in the morning." He held up a key. "And I'm not locking you in, alright? I'm locking them OUT. Not that any of them are stupid enough to cross me and try  
anything but a few guys have access to this house and ...you never know. They aren't used to having a pretty thing like you around if you catch my drift. Besides, I'm sure you'll feel safer that way."

Fiona nodded warily. "Thank you. And... Thank you for showing mercy to our group tonight. What you did..Was... Well... Just ...Thank you."

"Would you still be saying that if I threw you on the bed, tied up your hands and fucked you senseless right now, no questions asked?"

Her eyes widened for a brief second in fear but then she quickly disguised her emotions and tilted her chin up at him defiantly. "Yes, " she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Because the people I love would still be alive."

He let out a derisive chuckle. "Love? Love in this time, in this fucked up world, is foolish. It's don't get attached to anyone. Because odds are, they wontsurvive. Whether it be walkers, or dicks like myself and your boyfriend,  
someone orsomething will do them in. Trust me on that."

"He's not my boyfriend."

She didn't know why the words came out so quickly and easily. Or why she was feeling the need to explain herself to this intense stranger. She just didn't want him knowing how she truly felt about Rick and then using that against her.

Or against Rick.

He was her weakness.

Because as of very recently, their friendship had naturally blossomed into something more.

"He's not, huh? So he's just a fuck friend then?"

When she didn't answer, he leaned back against the door and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I saw the way he looked at you when I singled you out. I also saw how badly he wanted to kill me at the thought of me touching you."

"He's protective like that. Of all of us. We're a family. "

"That's cute. Nice try but you're a shitty liar, you know that? Bet you'd suck at poker. Which, come to think of it, wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if it was strip poker. Well, bad for you but definitely not bad for me."

She turned away from him and walked over to the window, refusing to answer and pissed that he was mocking her and getting a good laugh at her expense.

She hoped her back would be his cue that their conversation was over, and she waited to hear the door close, willing him to just leave so this nightmare of a day could finally end.

But he didn't.

Next thing she knew he had closed the gap between them and was standing right behind her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his tall, lean frame. When he spoke, he leaned down and his breath tickled her ear.

"Tell me, is he any good?"

When she refused to answer, he continued, "Does he know how to touch you? Does he even care what you like? Can he make you come so fucking hard your body is blissfully numb afterwards?"

Her stomach fluttered at his words and at the image they created in her mind.

Because she honestly never had a lover capable of such a feat.

Either pre OR post apocalypse.

And something told her this man standing behind her was in a league all his own. He was cocky and confident and most likely MORE than capable. And God help her, he was turning her on right then and there.

Willing her body language not to betray her, she spun around and shot back, "Sounds like you're in the midst of a pretty bad drought if my sex life is so damn interesting."

One dark eyebrow arched in amusement but this time, he wasn't poking fun. He was admiring her comeback. She wasn't as fragile or meek as he had initially imagined. And he was growing more attracted to her with each passing second, yet he couldn't  
quite decide if that was a good or bad thing.

He graced her with another cocky, dimple bearing smile. "You got me there."

Then he took a deep breath and stepped away, finally heading towards the door.

"On that note, sleep tight. We'll talk more in the morning."

He left the room and just as promised, locked it from the outside.

"Wait!" she called out to him frantically.

Negan reopened the door and stuck his head in. "What? Had a change of heart and realized you want and need me in your bed this very minute? You know I'll be more than happy to oblige." He took a step back into the room and pretended to pull his t- shirt  
up. His jeans hung low on his hips and she got a quick glimpse of a well toned abdomen and a trail of dark hair leading down from his navel.

Fiona narrowed her eyes, unamused, and looked away from the disturbingly inviting sight. "Bathroom. Please."

"Shit. Forgot about that. Sorry. It's down the hall."

She followed him out the door and down the landing to the other side. He pointed it out then disappeared into the room opposite. She saw a rumpled bed (king sized of course, just like he had bragged) with dark sheets, flanked by two nightstands, and a  
room off the back which she assumed was his own bathroom. He disappeared into it just as she closed the door to hers. She splashed cold water on her face to wash away the day's grime then leaned over and drank greedily from the faucet. She was hungry  
too but that could wait until tomorrow. After relieving her bladder she washed her hands and left the room.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting. "All set?"

"Yes. Thanks."

She hurried back to her room and closed the door behind her. Once again she heard the lock click into place and her breath, which she hadn't realized she'd been holding, escaped her in one long whoosh. She kicked off her boots and collapsed on the bed.  
And her heart, which had been beating in overdrive for most of the night, finally began to return to a more normal pace. 


	3. Chapter 3

Then what did you want me for?

Fiona's words echoed over and over in Negan's head as he lay in bed unable to sleep. One arm was propped beneath his head while he stared at the ceiling. What DID he want her for? He knew back in that forest clearing he had no intentions of  
hurting her, let alone raping her, so why did he foolishly ruin his best chance at revenge?

He WAS attracted to her, but who wouldn't be?

Was he secretly hoping the attraction would be mutual and they would be having lots of consensual sex by tomorrow night?

He shook his head at the absurdity.

Wasn't going to happen.

Not in this lifetime.

No, taking her and making her friends (and lover) think he was using her as his sex slave was more than adequate revenge, even right up on par with the act of killing one of them. Because it was the not knowing which was killing them now. Let them worry,  
let them speculate. Sometimes one's imagination was their own worst enemy.

But he still wasn't any closer to figuring out what the hell to do with her. Maybe put her in the mess hall kitchen with some of the other women? He didn't ask her if she knew how to cook. They didn't have a garden or a farm so that eliminated a few possibilities.  
She could do laundry, he guessed, as a last resort.

The obvious answer finally came to him just as he was drifting off to sleep.

"I'm fine," Rick muttered for the hundredth time that evening. They had just returned to Alexandria in the RV and Daryl had followed him up to the porch of his house, offering to stay the night. "I just want to go to bed. Tomorrow we'll regroup  
and figure out how the hell to take this asshole down."

They had discussed it a bit in the RV on the ride home but Rick hadn't been listening. He had sat alone in the back and stared out the window the whole way. Daryl wanted to trail the Saviorswhen they left tomorrow to see where their community  
was located. Michonne thought taking Negan's men as hostage then trying to do an even swap could be an option. Abraham just wanted to blow them all to smithereens, no questions asked.

Glen reminded him they needed to tread carefully because of Fiona.

Eugene's slow drawl put in his two cents. "Odds are by this time she's already damaged goods so I don't think rushing things makes a difference. Not to be crass, of course. Just speaking the truth." Everyone shot him an unamused look and he held up his  
hands innocently. "Just by law of probability and all."

Daryl had been glad Rick spent most of the ride home in a shocked stupor because he certainly didn't need to hear someone say aloud what he was undoubtedly beating himself upover internally anyway.

Damaged goods.

The thought had even made Daryl shudder at the time and he prided himself on being tougher than most. But Fiona was a kind person with a good heart and she didn't deserve this outcome. Negan would break someone like her. Damn Eugene and his odds.  
But he was right. Doing anything rash would be pointless because Negan definitely had Fiona in his bed that very moment. A guy like him wouldn't waste any time. He saw the way he had looked at her and groped her hungrily. A good looking girl was a  
rare commodity nowadays. And everyone was fucking horny as hell.

Himself included.

So there was no urgency.

They needed to really think things through to come up with the smartest plan of action and not make the same mistakes which had landed them in their current predicament.

Carl nudged Daryl and broke him out of his heavy thoughts. "He'll be fine. I'm with him."

"You've got Judith to watch over. You can't do both."

"I'll have Enid stay to help."

Daryl lifted a suspicious eyebrow, knowing full well that Carl was sweet on her, and sure enough, the young man blushed under the scrutiny. "He'll be fine," he repeated again, purposely changing the subject. "Go get some sleep. We all need it."

Daryl nodded his assent and pulled Rick into a brotherly hug. "We will fix this, man. You know we will. And Fiona will be okay. She's a fighter."

Rick's only reply was a half hearted pat on Daryl's back before he made his way inside. Enid was at the kitchen table and sprung up anxiously when he and Carl entered. "Is everyone okay?"

"He took Fiona," Carl told her quietly.

Enid gasped. "But...why... How..." She couldn't even form a full sentence.

"Not tonight, okay?" Carl pleaded with her. "I need to stay with him," he continued under his breath as Rick climbed the stairs to the bedroom. "He's not doing so well. Can you stay the night and keep an ear out for Judith?"

"Of course."

"Thanks. Holler if you need anything."

He followed his dad upstairs but the sound of running water told him Rick had already gotten in the shower. He went to his room to change and then returned to his dad's room where he planned to keep vigil at his bedside the whole night.

Rick let the hot water wash over him and finally allowed himself to cry. He didn't want any of the others to see how truly unhinged this whole situation had made him. He had put the lives of everyone he loved in danger tonight, all because of a rash decision  
he had made a few weeks earlier. He had thought they were invincible and could conquer anyone and anything.

God how wrong he had been.

Now, not only had they become slaves to this psycho Negan, but he had taken Fiona as hostage.

He had been so close to telling her he loved her last night as they lay in bed after making love. They had been through so much together and she had brought him back to life so many times over the past year. She had been his best friend up until  
a few weeks ago when they had taken the relationship to the next level, finally acting on a physical attraction that had always been there from the very beginning. She was wonderful with Judith and bonded so well with Carl. She loved both kids as  
if they were her own.

And he loved her.

So very much.

Which is why the thought of Negan violating her a million ways from Sunday ripped him to pieces because there was no one else to blame other than himself and his foolish ego.

He could only pray she returned to him undamaged. Not physically, because that was inevitable now, but at least mentally and emotionally.

He sank down to his knees and his uncontrollable sobbing grew louder and louder until Carl came in, shut off the water and helped him get dressed and into bed. He didn't remember falling asleep but once he did, he was plagued by one nightmare after another  
of Fiona helplessly tied up in Negan's bed, bloody and beaten, desperately calling out his name for help.

He tossed and turned, moaning all night long, and Carl could do nothing but lie awake and listen, feeling just as helpless as his father. 


	4. Chapter 4

Fiona heard the lock click and her door open very quietly.

"Don't you believe in knocking?" she asked dryly. She was sitting on the window seat, knees up to her chest, looking outside and didn't turn around when he entered the room. She probably shouldn't have assumed it was Negan and been more vigilant, but  
she was tired and cranky and honestly didn't give a shit at this point.

"It's my house, little lady."

It was him all right.

And there was that voice again.

She wished it wasn't so pleasant sounding. Because there was just something about it that went right through her and, strangely enough, calmed her in a weird sort of way.

"My house, my room. And you belong to me now so I will come and go as I please. Don't ever forget it." He walked over and took a seat across from her so she was forced to shoot a quick glance at him. He was wearing a grey t-shirt with jeans and his hair  
was standing up in unruly spikes as if he had just run a hand through it. He still hadn't shaved and in the morning light she saw his beard was streaked with silver. "You're up early. Sleep ok?"

She returned her attention out the window. "No."

"Could say it's because you didn't get to experience one of those earth shattering orgasms I had mentioned last night. They tend to do wonders for sleep. Maybe you'll reconsider tonight."

She met his gaze again, unamused. He was smiling at her with that cocky grin. "Don't hold your breath."

He laughed and was about to counter with another flirtatious quip when he heard her stomach rumble loudly. "You hungry? I made breakfast."

"Starving. I'd also like to shower."

"Absolutely." His lips curled up at the thought. "Any other demands while you're at it?"

"Coffee, toothbrush, change of clothes. You taking me back to Alexandria..."

"Done. Done. Almost done. And not a chance. Speaking of the latter, though, my men just went for a pickup. Can't wait to see how much your boyfriend values your freedom by how generous he'll be with your supplies."

"We worked our asses off for those supplies," she spat angrily.

"Which makes taking them for nothing all the more sweeter." He winked at her and stood up, gently nudging her leg. "Come down to the kitchen and eat something. It's getting cold."

She followed him reluctantly, and as she reached the stairs, the smell of eggs and bacon greeted her nostrils. Her mouth began to water and she couldn't believe her eyes (and nose) when she saw a pot of coffee brewing in the coffeemaker.

"Ohmygod. I was only joking about the coffee. Where the hell did you find it?"

"This place was pretty well stocked when we got here. We use the luxuries sparingly, of course. And nobody gets coffee but me." He poured her a steaming cup. "And you." He offered it with another of those charming smiles and she took  
it warily, wondering when he was going to start demanding payment for all these favors and niceties.

She sat down at the table and he placed a small plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of her. "Courtesy of Hilltop, I assume!?" she asked sarcastically.

"Hell yea. Their livestock is fucking awesome."

"Right." She shot him a disgusted look, not wanting to think of the unspeakable acts he had to have committed to get those eggs and bacon. She focused her attention on the food instead, trying to ignore the sensation of his eyes on her while she  
ate. She took a sip her coffee and closed her eyes, savoring the rich taste. It was all she could do to keep from moaning aloud. "You can keep your orgasms. This, to me, is ecstasy."

Her comment was so unexpected he couldn't help but laugh out loud. "How long since you've had one?"

"Too long."

"Like I've said, "I'd be more than welcome to oblige."

"I was talking about coffee."

"I wasn't."

She rolled her eyes at his immaturity and what she was quickly learning was a one track mind and went back to eating.

"It's a drug, you know. Coffee."

"So what? We all have some vice or other."

He sat back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her keenly. "So what's yours, little lady? Other than coffee."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I'll find out. I have ways."

"Good luck with that."

Chucking again, he stood up and placed his empty mug in the sink. "Head up and shower when you're done. "There's towels, a toothbrush and a few other things I figured you'd need. I'm going to run out and see about clothes. Carla has a teenage daughter  
about your size." He took the opportunity to size her up again, letting his gaze travel down her body from head to toe. "When I get back we'll take a walk. I have a job for you."

Fiona didn't like the sound of that, but then reminded herself that any job would be better than one that involved servicing him in the bedroom. She thanked him quietly and he left the room. She listened to the sounds of him moving through the house,  
getting whatever he needed before the front door closed and she heard the lock turn into place.

She took her time finishing the coffee, savoring every drop until the last. Then she cleaned the dishes and made her way back upstairs. The door to his room was shut. She closed her hand around the knob and turned gently, but it was locked, just as she  
had assumed. Not that it mattered. Because even if she had found a weapon in there , she wouldn't be able to use it. He had done nothing to harm her or put her in danger (**so far**, the warning voice in her head spoke up), so to attack him or hurt  
him unprovoked would be a bit extreme. Besides, if she were to escape the house, assuming none of the other Saviors recaptured her, where would she go? She had no idea where she was and how to get back home...

So, no. Running was out of the question.

Turning away from his room, she entered the bathroom which was stocked just like he had promised. Clean towels and washcloths were piled on the corner of the sink. She peeked inside the medicine cabinet and took inventory - toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush,  
deodorant, lotion, several bottles of hair products,and a box of tampons. Thank God she wouldn't be needing those any time soon. Inside the shower was shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and god bless him, even a new razorblade with a can of shaving  
cream which rested like royalty on a shelf in the corner.

She brushed her teeth, removing all traces of morning coffee breath, then undressed quickly and stepped into the shower, closing the glass door behind her. The hot water and water pressure were heavenly, and surprisingly, even better than what they had  
in Alexandria. She lost track of time while she cleaned her hair and then shaved, because it had been awhile since she had done that. Rick always joked about how he liked her 'hairy', which for her, was going no more than a week without a shave. Their  
luxuries were limited and so needed to be used sparingly, razorblades and shaving cream included, but a week was where she drew the line. She couldn't stand herself any longer after that and also felt way too self- conscious around Rick otherwise.  
Carol always teased her about being too high maintenance. She herself, hadn't shaved in months and was happily embracing mother nature.

So caught up in her thoughts and the beautiful feeling of her smooth, slick legs under her hands, she didn't hear the bathroom door open and was unaware she had company.

******************

The shower door was see-through and hadn't fully fogged up yet so Negan was greeted with a most pleasant sight when he walked into the bathroom. Fiona's leg was propped up on the lowest corner shelf while she shaved and he was able to admire her petite,  
lithe body in profile. The curve of that tight ass and her small breasts dangling as she leaned over while maneuvering the blade down her calf were enough to make him catch his breath. He grew real hard real fast and was somewhat disturbed by how  
badly he found himself wanting this woman when he knew nothing about her. He groaned softly and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to join her in there and take her from behind.

She dropped the razor blade, bent down to retrieve it, and when she stood back up, that was when she finally noticed him standing there. She shrieked and turned her back to him. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? GET OUT!"

"Hey- MY house, remember?"

She shut off the water and was grateful the door had finally steamed up. Her initial shock turned to anger and she began to shiver, both from the cold and from her emotional outburst . "That doesn't give you the right to violate me! Fucking voyeurist  
sicko," she muttered under her breath but loud enough for him to ear.

Her outburst amused him and he laughed heartily. And her use of the F word made him even harder than he already was, but he did his best to ignore that.

For now.

"Sticks and stones, gorgeous," he drawled. Grabbing a towel off the counter, he held it open between both hands then opened the shower door. Fiona frantically tried to cover herself with a tangle of hands and arms but didn't do such a great job under  
the pressure. She was painfully aware of her nudity as he stepped into the shower, but his eyes, instead of wandering, held tight to hers. He held the towel up, shielding her body, and she grabbed it and clutched it to her chest. He closed the gap  
between them and wrapped his arms around her. The feel of his large hands splayed across her bare back was like a shock to her system.

Pulling her against him, he held her tightly. Tight enough to show her who was in charge and also to conveniently demonstrate the strength between his legs. "Believe me, if I was going to violate you, it wouldn't be as benign as this." He spoke firmly,  
and a flash of anger darkened his eyes. "Because I can show you some major league violating to set you straight." Fiona struggled against him and a soft groan escaped his lips as his erection twitched. "Oh god, gorgeous, don't do that."

"Then stop threatening me! You said you don't rape women. Was that just a line? So I let my guard down eventually?"

"It doesn't have to be rape, sweetie." He lowered his forehead to rest on hers and softened his voice. "You're living in luxury right now. I can move you to the barracks and see how you fare sharing a bunker with 20 of my men. Or I could tie you up in  
the basement and leave you there in the dark all alone with no food and water until I decide your boyfriend has paid me enough to get you back."

He watched her eyes widen in fear as his words finally resonated.

"So you see? Me coming In here to drop off some clean clothes and underwear is no violation. Did I happen to like what I happened to see? Fuck yeah. And did I stop to enjoy the view for a second? I sure fuckin did." He grinned like a schoolboy, dimples  
and all, and pressed against her one last time to prove his point. "And you should take that as a compliment. Not as a fucking violation."

Fiona was so upset by now, not only with him and his chauvinistic acts and comments but also with herself for not being as pissed at him as she initially was, that in a reckless act of retaliation, she reached behind her and twisted the faucet back on.  
They both got soaked but she was already wet so she didn't care. He let go of her with one hand to swipe his wet hair off his face and when she saw he was still smiling at her, she knew she was in trouble because it had the opposite effect she had  
been aiming for. He used his free hand to cup her cheek and kiss her. The feel of his mouth on hers was more of a shock than the water had been and she didn't expect it so couldn't fight it at first. His lips tasted hers, firm yet gentle,  
as if savoring every inch. She was about to open her mouth and let him inside when she came to her senses and shoved him away. Hard.

"Fuck you. Don't ever do that again."

"Oh don't worry. I won't." He brushed a wet tendril of hair out of her eye. "Because next time it will be you. Doing it to me."

He smiled again, the cockiest, most victorious smile Fiona had ever seen, and then stepped out of the shower. His wet boots made squelching sounds across the floor as he walked to the door. "I'm gonna go dry off and change. Meet me downstairs in 20 minutes.  
Like I said earlier, you have work to do." 


	5. Chapter 5

It took Fiona a while to compose herself once Negan left the room. She stood motionless in the shower, her mouth still tingling from the imprint of his.

The kiss had thrown her off guard, not only because she had never expected him to cross that line (she figured him to be all bark and no bite), but also because, if she was being honest with herself, it hadn't been horrible. And a part of her had gotten  
lost in it for a brief second or two. But who could blame her? She was half naked, he was obviously turned on, and his wet Tshirt had clung to his chest and arms, revealing every dip and curve of muscle beneath. It was a moment of weakness, nothing  
more. And wouldn't happen again. He was a cocky bastard and he could think whatever he wanted, but it would be a cold day in hell before she EVER initiated any further physical contact between them.

EVER.

Drying off, she took inventory of what he had brought her. Jeans, two T-shirts, a few pairs of socks and simple, no-frills cotton panties. The jeans fit snugly and the black v-neck Tshirt hugged her curves a little too tightly for her liking. But  
beggars couldn't be choosers. She towel dried her hair, ran some gel through it and let it hang in messy waves down her back. Making her way back to her room, she threw on her jacket, laced up her boots and hurried downstairs.

He was standing in the foyer, leaning against the bannister, waiting for her. He had changed out of his wet clothes into a similar outfit- more blue jeans but this time a long sleeved navy henley. He took a quick appraisal of her from head to toe while  
he put on his leather jacket and smiled. "I did good, huh?"

"It'll do," she said tersely and walked past him and out the door without making eye contact. She smirked when she saw his wet boots drying on the porch in the sun.

"You're lucky I have another pair," he drawled.

Without responding, she waited at the bottom of the steps for him to lead the way. The sun was shining but there was a chill in the air. Autumn had definitely arrived. It used to be her favorite time of the year. The change in the leaves, brightly colored  
mums, pumpkin spice lattes at Starbucks... Her heart ached for all the little things she had taken for granted which she would never get to enjoy again.

"So now I'm getting the silent treatment?" he asked as he started walking towards the barracks and she fell into step beside him.

"No. I just have nothing to say at the moment."

"Aren't you curious as to where we are going?"

"I'll find out soon enough."

He looked over at her and smiled to himself. She was pretty darn cute when she was angry. For a moment he worried he had gone too far that morning with his shenanigans in the shower. She had every right to be upset with him. If he was trying to drive  
her away he was doing a hell of a good job. But then there was that kiss. That fucking kiss. He hadn't planned on doing it, but once she had drenched him like a petulant child in retaliation, he couldn't resist. He wanted to believe her lips had softened  
under his for the briefest of moments before she shoved him away, but maybe that was just his overactive, delusional imagination. He had proved his point over the past twenty four hours by showing her who was boss, so at least she knew not to try  
anything funny or step out of line. But now he needed to back off just a bit, as hard as that was going to be.

As they walked together, there were people milling around, doing different tasks. Most of them were men, of different ages, and Fiona wasn't blind to the way they leered at her. She tugged her jacket tighter around herself and did her best to ignore them.  
Negan acknowledged them all with either a nod, wave or an order of some sort. She could tell they respected him, and some probably even feared him, because nobody was bold enough to address her or inquire about her presence in their community.

They assumed she was his property now and therefore off limits. The thought inflamed her. She wasn't anyone's property. No matter what he said or how he threatened her.

She was about to give him another piece of her mind when he stopped in front of the last set of barracks which weren't housing accommodations but instead an infirmary, with a big red medical cross on the door.

Fiona breathed an internal sigh of relief. Of course. What else would he have had her do?

He opened the door and motioned for her to step inside ahead of him. "The doc is in," he said with a smile as she passed, close enough but careful not to touch any part of him. She smelled of soap and fruity shampoo, and his brain flashed back to the  
image of her shaving in the shower. His smile grew wider and he watched with satisfaction as she obviously was pleased with what she saw.

Fiona felt like a kid in a candy store when she realized the enormity of the Infirmary's accommodations. The room was large enough to house 8 beds comfortably which were all unoccupied at the moment, thank goodness. Mouth hanging open, she took a casual  
stroll around the room, taking mental inventory of all their equipment, medical supplies, and medications. EKG machine, Blood pressure sphygmomanometer, bags of IV fluid, suture material, bandages, alcohol, and most impressive, shelves of various  
antibiotics, both oral and IV.

"This is incredible," she breathed. She finally met his gaze for the first time since leaving the house.

He was propped on the edge of a stool by the counter watching her, arms folded over his chest, long legs crossed in front of him.

And he was smiling.

At her.

Not his usual cocky smile but a genuine, honest smile.

"Thought you might like it."

"Like!? That's not strong enough of a word. This... this... this can save lives... Who's been acting as doctor for you?"

"Carla, the woman I got the clothes from. She used to be an ICU nurse but that's the closest we've got to any medical knowledge. Luckily, we haven't had to deal with anything serious. Small cuts, burns, upset stomachs...They have a doctor up at Hilltop  
who I would have used for any emergencies, but he's an OB so not sure how much help he'd be."

"If you put it that way, I'm just a pediatrician then," she countered.

"Yeah but you have general knowledge - heart, lungs, asthma, infections... I'm sure you've sutured a laceration or two. He knows women's cunts. That's it."

Fiona rolled her eyes. Just when he was starting to redeem himself, he had to go and throw in an immature sexist comment like that.

"Any kids in the community?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Just a couple of teenagers. We try to stay away from recruiting people saddled with kids. They ain't nothing but a burden in times like these."

Fiona's thoughts strayed to Judith and Carl, which then naturally moved onto Rick. She missed them terribly and it hadn't even been twenty four hours. God, it felt like days. She wondered how everyone was doing and then remembered Negan mentioning something  
earlier that morning about sending his people to Alexandria for their first pickup. She hoped there wouldn't be any ugly confrontations and that her friends would give them some supplies and send them on their way.

Not that they had many extra supplies to spare...

"You with me, Doc?"

His voice pulled her back to the present and she looked over at him. "What?"

"I said let's go take a walk. I'll introduce you to Carla."

When they stepped out of the infirmary, Negan noticed a van parked outside his house and smiled. "Ahh, they're back already. Actually, let's take a little detour and see what goodies your friends treated us to."

The blonde man named Dwight whom Fiona recognized from the night before was standing outside the van while another man was ringing Negan's doorbell.

"Trevor!" Negan called out to him. "I'm over here."

Trevor turned and walked back down the steps where he waited by the back of the van. Dwight joined him and proceeded to lift a few crates and place them on the ground.

"How'd it go?" Negan asked.

"See for yourself, boss," Trevor said, pointing to the crates.

Negan bent down and rifled through them. "Wow. Carrots, some fucking green things and a bunch of cans. Beans, soup and some fucking mystery meat." He let out a low whistle and stood back up, running a hand through his hair. Smirking at Fiona, he said,  
"That's how much you're worth to him, huh? Guess he found someone new to keep his bed warm at at night." He nudged her shoulder and she elbowed him away angrily.

Even she was surprised by the paltry amount in the crates, but would never admit it to him. "That's all we have. We just started a garden. Things don't grow overnight. We told you we were running low on supplies. That's why we made a deal with Hilltop  
in the first place."

"A deal to kill me."

His eyes bore into her, daring her to disagree. When she couldn't answer, he continued, "You have guns. A whole fucking armory from what I hear. That's what I want. What I need."

She met his eyes defiantly. "You're not getting our guns."

"Then you're not going home. It's simple math, gorgeous. Guess now I have to drive out to Alexandria myself and have a little heart to heart with your boyfriend. It appears he didn't seem to get the message last night."

"Stop calling him that."

"That's right. My bad. Fuck friend."

She was about to retaliate when a Jeep sped up the driveway, driving ridiculously fast and honking loudly. Men inside it were shouting and Negan's brow furrowed in concern. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath. When they stopped in front of the  
infirmary, he sprinted over to meet them. As soon as Fiona saw two men carry another one out of the jeep, Negan yelled out to her.

"Fiona! Need you in here, NOW!"

Heart racing In fear of what she was about to see, she ran back over to the infirmary and pushed through the door. A young blonde man was lying on a stretcher. He was clutching his left hand to his chest and Fiona could see all five fingers had been bitten  
off down to mid hand and he was bleeding profusely.

"A walker did this?" she asked one of the guys who brought him in. He didn't answer and just stared at his friend as if in shock.

"Adam!" Negan barked. "Fucking focus, man!

Adam came too and his eyes were glazed as they regarded Fiona. "What? What did you say?"

"Did he get bitten? Or was it something else that cut him?" She already knew the answer because of the jagged edges around the wound, but she needed to be 100% sure before she took drastic measures.

"Zombie... We thought the place was secure... Came out of the freezer. He didn't see it and I couldn't get there in time."

"They were on a run," Negan explained to her.

She feigned surprise. "You mean you actually forage for your own supplies!?" she asked sarcastically as she picked up his hand and examined it more closely. Then she grabbed a clean towel off the shelf and wrapped it around the hand, holding a tight temporary  
pressure dressing while she looked around and made a mental list of what she needed.

Negan was able to read her mind. "What do you need?"

"Towels, hot water, alcohol, needles and thread... And the largest knife, ax or machete you got."

The young man moaned weakly. "No... Please..."

Fiona bent down so her head was level with his. ""What's your name?"

"Bryson."

"Bryson, I'm Fiona. I know a bit about medicine and I'm going to do my best to help you, ok?"

"Please..." He begged again. "Don't take my hand."

"Your hand is already gone, Bryson. The walker bit you badly. If you want to live, I have to help you before the virus spreads up your arm."

Negan blanched when he realized the enormity of what she wanted to do. "You have to cut it off?" he whispered as he pulled her aside.

"Yes. It's the only way." She began rifling through the shelves of meds but there were just too many. And they didn't seem to be in any particular order. " there has to be something here for pain."

Negan turned back to Bryson's friend who still looked like he was on the verge of passing out. "Adam, go get Carla. Tell her we need her help." Then he said to Trevor in a low voice. "I'll need your machete."

Trevor nodded and hurried out.

Although not successful in finding any pain meds, Fiona did find the IV needles. She pulled off her jacket, tied her hair up with an extra rubber band tourniquet and grabbed the supplies she needed to start an IV. Getting a line in him was easy enough,  
he had good veins, and she quickly hooked up a bag of fluids to replenish the blood he lost.  
By now a small group had crowded into the room and there were lots of tense anxious faces about. She needed space and certainly didn't need an audience. "Everyone needs to leave. NOW!" she ordered them. "We will let you know if we need extra help."

"Who the fuck are you?" a large, muscular bald man asked angrily. "We don't take orders from you, little cunt."

Negan stepped in his face and grabbed two fistfuls of his jacket. "You heard her. Get. The fuck. OUT."

The man swallowed thickly. He knew Negan was boss but he couldn't stand the thought of being publicly humiliated like that in front of his friends. By a woman. And not just any woman but one he had never seen in the community until today. "Oh...I see...She  
must be your new toy. But your standards seem to have fallen pretty low. She ain't got no tits!" The man threw his head back and laughed, and Negan took advantage by throwing a hard right punch that connected with his nose. The cracking sound was  
loud enough for everyone in the room to hear and they began to file out quickly, frightened because they knew Negan meant business.

He dragged the man to the door, who was now clutching his nose and cursing profusely and tossed him outside. "You step foot back in here and I'll fucking get Lucille and do you in, I swear."

"Enough boys, we have work to do."

A middle aged woman with greying brown curls scolded as she pushed past them and into the room. "I'm Carla", she said, extending a hand to Fiona. "You must be the doctor."

"Hi. Yes. What do we have in the way of pain meds?"

"Just some Morphine." Carla grabbed a small bottle from a drawer under the medication shelf.

"That'll do. Give him a double dose please."

Carla drew up the correct amount and injected it into the IV line. Meanwhile, Fiona was setting up a table next to the stretcher with clean towels, scalpels, syringes, and different sizes and types of sutures and needles. She found some sterile gloves  
and grabbed a size 6 for herself and asked Carla what size she was.

"Seven please."

Trevor came back with the most sinister machete Fiona had ever seen. She tried not to think about how many innocent lives it had taken. It was covered in thick dried blood. "Can we please clean that up?" she asked Negan desperately.

"Right." He brought it over to the sink, poured a bottle of rubbing alcohol over it and began scrubbing it with a clean sponge. He too had taken off his jacket and rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows. "Will this do?" He asked, holding it up for her  
to see.

"That's fine. Let's go." She looked around the room, eyes darting wildly as she searched for something to serve as a chopping block. There was a sturdy wooden table the same height as the stretcher in the corner. She pointed at it. "Trevor, bring that  
here."

She extended Bryson's arm so half his forearm rested on the table. He was still very much awake but at least subdued. He was unfortunately going to see (and remember) everything, though. She had a sudden flashback of when they had to take Herschel's leg  
in the prison. The agony on his face was something that still haunted her dreams to this very day. But he recovered, she reminded herself. He got well and got over it. His strength of character was something she and all her friends tried to emulate  
in themselves to keep his memory alive.

"Ok Negan. You're up."

It was the first time she had called him by name and fuck, if it didn't sound so fucking good, even there, in that horrible setting and knowing what he was about to do.

"Carla, get ready with the towels, I'll have the clamps. And Trevor, you're going to have to hold him down."

When everyone was in place, she nodded to Negan.

"Where do I go?" He asked, hesitating for the briefest of seconds

"Low forearm. A little past the wrist."

He nodded his assent and lifted the machete over his head with two hands. With one swift, strong slice, he brought it down hard. Blood splattered everywhere but the hand came off neatly and he didn't need a second try.

Immediately Carla flushed the wound while Fiona looked to clamp off the two main arteries which were gushing rivers of blood. She got the ulnar right away but had trouble with the radial. "Keep flushing! I can't see shit!" Finally, after what seemed  
like forever, she got it clamped and the blood flow decreased significantly. Then she got to suturing. One artery then the other. It took forever because they kept reopening due to the pressure of the blood. She probably wasn't using the proper  
kind of sutures but this was all she had so she had to make it work.

Carla kept cleaning and suctioning the site for her, acting as a perfect scrub nurse. Trevor was sitting by the head of the stretcher to keep Bryson still but he wasn't fighting it anymore. He was so delirious from the shock and the pain he was practically  
unconscious. Every so often Carla would check his blood pressure and they would start another bag of IV fluids to replace the one that finished.

And Negan just stood by Fiona's side and watched, speechless, as this tiny little blonde performed one of the most incredible acts he'd ever seen.

He kept asking her if she needed anything - supplies, a drink of water, a break to get off her feet- but she stubbornly refused and continued working. He felt useless and incompetent. And if he was exhausted just from watching, he could only imagine  
how she must be feeling. But she fought through it and kept going, until, hours later, she had finally finished.

Fiona stepped back from the table, removed her gloves and ran her hands through her hair damp with sweat. She glanced at Bryson's body, his outstretched amputated arm, and the sea of blood on the floor and suddenly the room began to spin. Her vision blurred  
and then slowly turned to black as if a curtain was falling down over her eyes. She swayed on her feet and Negan, who hadn't taken his eyes off of her throughout the entire process, rushed to her side just in time and caught her unconscious  
body before it hit the floor. 


	6. Chapter 6

Fiona came to in Negan's arms. He was kneeling on the floor and her head was resting in the crook of his elbow. His eyes regarded her with concern. "Hey," he drawled softly. "You could have given me a heads up, ya know."

She smiled faintly and tried to sit up but her head was killing her and the room was still spinning. She winced and stifled a groan.

"Take it slow." He helped her to her feet, but kept an arm snaked tightly around her waist in case she decided to collapse again. He wasn't taking any chances.

"Bring her over here, Negan," Carla called out, motioning to the nearest stretcher.

"I'm fine," Fiona protested. "I don't need to lie down."

"You most certainly do," she argued in her most no-nonsense voice. "And you need something to eat and drink. I sent Trevor to the mess hall. He should be back any minute."

Negan let go of her once she was seated securely on the stretcher. He stood there like a sentinel, never taking his eyes off her, with arms crossed over his chest while Carla took her blood pressure. Fiona noticed his shirt and jeans were stained with  
blood and she took quick inventory of her own clothes, which were a thousand times dirtier. Suddenly, her memory returned and she sprung back up as she remembered the young man she had been attending to.

"Bryson!"

Negan's strong arm flung out and he stopped her in her tracks. He pushed her gently back onto the stretcher. "Relax, Doc. He's stable for now. You need to get something into that little body of yours so you can be strong enough to take care of him."

She knew he was right but refused to admit it so she just lay back down without a fuss. Her legs did feel weak and wobbly when she had stood on her feet. How long had she been operating on him for? It had to be mid/late afternoon by now. "We need to start  
antibiotics."

"Already done," Carla said.

"Which?"

"Unasyn."

Fiona nodded her approval and looked over at Negan. "What do you need me for when you already got her?" she joked lightly.

Carla laughed. "Because I'm not as young or as good looking as you, honey, that's why."

Fiona could have sworn she saw Negan blush beneath his few days' growth of beard but then reminded herself guys like him weren't vulnerable and certainly didn't blush. On the contrary, they made girls like HER blush. And were very skilled at it.

"Carla, you're gorgeous," Negan purred dramatically. "I think about you every night. Just last night I had the most delicious dream where-"

Carla didn't let him slapped him playfully on the arm. "You stop that. I'm old enough to be your mother."

"If you had me at 16!"

"Not so far fetched in this day and age, mister!"

Fiona watched their playful banter and could tell Negan truly had a soft spot in his heart for Carla. They seemed to have an almost kind of mother - son relationship and to see him let his guard down like that with someone was unexpected.

Negan stood up. "Carla, please keep an eye on our Doc and make sure she doesn't get up until she eats and drinks." He flashed Fiona a stern look and she nodded silently in agreement. "I have some work to do but I'll check in later." He took a key off  
his key ring and handed it to Fiona. "To get back in the house if i'm not home."

"I wont be coming home tonight."

Did she just refer to his place as 'home'!?

She chalked it up to a combination of dehydration and hypoglycemia.

"Bryson needs constant round the clock monitoring this early out," she continued, a bit flustered, but no one seemed to have caught her little slip.

"I realize that. So I'm going to make up a scheduled rotation and people will take shifts."

"They aren't doctors."

"They have two legs and can run across the lawn and get you if anything happens."

Shit, he had an answer for everything. Realizing she lost that battle, she turned away from him and muttered, "Whatever." When he got to the door, she called out to him, suddenly remembering his conversation with Trevor and Dwight before the guys pulled  
up in the Jeep with an injured Bryson.

"Wait!"

He turned and raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Are you going to Alexandria?"

He smiled smugly. "Not today, gorgeous. It's too late and that's an early morning errand. They will surely have the pleasure of my company tomorrow, though. Don't you worry 'bout that." He winked at her and walked out.

"He's a good man", Carla said quietly from where she sat beside Fiona's stretcher.

Fiona tried not to laugh at her choice of adjectives because 'good' certainly wouldn't be on her top ten list of words to describe him. "Is that so?"

"He rescued Nicki and I...in the very beginning when this all started..and hasn't left our side since. Everything he does, he does to protect his people and keep us alive. He cares about us. And we care about him. These are strange times and people  
do what they gotta do to survive. Nothing he does is without purpose or reason. He's fair and has a strong sense of justice."

"Justice!? What justice? He's a bully! Instead of getting his own supplies, growing his own garden and raising his own livestock, he's stealing and taking advantage of others' hard work. And threatening to kill us if we don't give it to him! To  
me, that's a coward."

"Like I said, it's all about survival, sweetie. I'm sure you and your people can relate."

Fiona fell quiet and her thoughts turned to Rick. There were a few times over the past months where he did something so primal, so irrational, so frightening that he seemed almost insane. Sure, they had never stolen other living people's supplies, but  
he definitely killed his share of innocents, for no good reason other than he simply didn't trust them or because of the possibility they would be a threat to him and the people he loved.

So when you looked at it that way, were he and Negan really that different after all?

"What's his story?" Fiona figured now was as good a time as any to get some background info on him and his past.

Carla shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine. He doesn't talk about the past. I've tried numerous times but to no avail. He's a very private person."

Fiona tried to hide her disappointment. She thought for sure, considering how close they were, that Carla would have been a valuable source of information.

"If you ask me, what he needs is a woman in his life," she continued openly. "A decent one. Some have come and go, but they weren't right for him." She scrunched up her nose at the thought, making her disapproval known. "They were just a distraction,  
if anything. And sure, I get it. He's a man. But he needs more than that. He needs a companion. Someone who can match his intelligence, his emotions, his passion, his wit...someone he respects. Someone like YOU, actually."

Fiona shifted uncomfortably. She didn't like where this conversation was headed.

"I can already tell he's sweet on you. Go ahead, ask me how I know."

"Please don't, Carla."

"Ok fine, I'll tell you, then. You don't see it because I can tell you have a hard time making eye contact with him, but the way he looks at you... the way he's a little nervous and awkward around you like a schoolboy... The way he let you bark orders  
at our people and stood up to Zander like he did, punching him for disrespecting you... I wish i could have taken a picture of the look on his face while he watched you operate on Bryson's arm. He wasn't only amazed, sweetie, he was enamored."

Fiona couldn't help but laugh at her choice of words.

Enamored.

Someone like Negan.

Riiiiiight.

"He mauled me in front of my friends and made them think he was bringing me back here to rape me!"

Carla let out a little chuckle. "But he didn't." She said it so matter of factly, like she knew.

"No," Fiona agreed quietly. "He didn't." She wanted to add how he DID barge into the shower uninvited but could feel her cheeks heating up at the memory so just kept quiet instead.

"Survival, sweetie. Like I said. That's all its about. He does what he needs to do." The blush on Fiona's face didn't go unnoticed, however, yet she chose not to call attention to it.

For now.

"Is Nikki your daughter?" Fiona asked, in a desperate attempt to change the subject. She couldn't bear to listen to any more of Carla's romantic nonsense. Besides, since she would be living with these people for God knew how long, she figured she should  
at least try to get to know some of them.

"Yes." Carla smiled, thankfully taking the bait. "She's almost 16."

"Please thank her for the clothes she lent me."

"Oh no worries! Lucky you're a tiny little thing like her! I'll bring her round and introduce you to her later. She loves all things medicine and would love to observe and help out if she can. She had plans to go to nursing school from college..." Her  
voice trailed off wistfully and Fiona felt her heart ache for this woman. How hard must it be watching your child grow up during an apocalypse without any hope for their future or the world's future? That's why knowing her two little angels were in  
heaven, free from all this suffering and uncertainty, was a slightly somewhat, (but not by much), lighter pill to swallow.

As if reading her thoughts, Carla asked, 'How about you? Any children?"

Fiona just shook her head no and was thankfully saved from further inquires by Trevor who returned with a tray of food and drinks. "Hope you like beans and granola bars," he joked dryly. He placed the tray on the stretcher in front of her and then headed  
out again.

Fiona blanched at the brown slop in the bowl and instead reached for a granola bar, unwrapping it and downing it in three large bites. Carla tsked in disapproval. "You need protein or you'll waste away and get even skinnier than you are. So eat those  
beans or I'm not letting you up."

"I hate beans."

"Me too. But when you're hungry, they taste like a grilled steak. Trust me."

Fiona struggled but managed to finish the small bowl of beans, which she washed down with a bottle of juice. "Good girl", Carla murmured, patting her hand. Then she stood up. "I've got some work to do as well, but I'll head back to relieve you in a few  
hours so you can go home and clean up and rest a bit."

"Great. Thanks."

Fiona breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally alone again. She placed the empty food tray on the counter and went over to check on Bryson. He was still unconscious but his breathing was slow and regular, and his blood pressure was holding. She  
donned a new pair of gloves and gently probed the wound, checking for bleeders. None, thank goodness. She irrigated it one last time and then left it alone so the healing process could begin. Next thing she needed to figure out was what to use for  
a flap to cover it. Usually plastic surgeons would make a skin graft by shaving a piece of skin from a body part like the inner thigh and placing it over the open arm.

But she wasn't a plastic surgeon.

Yet something needed to cover the wound.

She would pick Carla's brain later and hopefully the two of them would come up with something reasonable.

She spent the rest of the afternoon taking inventory of supplies and arranging medications and antibiotics alphabetically on the shelves. It was mind-numbing work but it kept her brain occupied enough so it wouldn't stray to other disturbing thoughts  
such as her friends, Negan's looming visit to Alexandria tomorrow, how she was going to graft Bryson's stump and finally to Negan himself and everything Carla had observed between them in a span of a few hours.

He wanted her sexually, that's all.

He had made that more than clear too many times to count already, by not only his words but also his actions.

But being 'sweet' on her? What a joke.

Carla was living in a dream world and was probably a hopeless romantic at heart. She seemed like the kind of person who would have thrived being a matchmaker in the old world. She should have told her immediately about her relationship with Rick. That  
would have put a stop to her delusional plans real quick.

So why hadn't she?

Not having a decent answer to that question, Fiona vowed to mention it the next time she was alone with Carla.

Shadows were lengthening across the room and dusk was falling. She turned around, searching for the light switch and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the large figure looming in the doorway.

.


	7. Chapter 7

"Jesus!" Fiona yelled. "Can you please stop doing that!?"

Negan flashed her a full blown dimpled grin. "Doing what?"

"Sneaking up on me and watching me! It'screeping me out!"

"I just walked in the door!"

"You could have said something to let me know you were there."

"Ok. I'm here." He held out his arms, dramatically announcing his presence.

Another grin. He was having way too much fun with this.

She turned back in a huff and finished separating the last group of medication. Next thing she knew he was beside her, leaning back against the counter, and watching her keenly. "Good to see you have your fire back. You scared me for a bit back there  
ya know."

"I'm fine. People faint every day."

"Just don't make a habit of it because I won't always be around to catch you."

As hard as she tried, Fiona couldn't hold back the laugh. And so she chuckled in spite of herself. "You must have been horrible at meeting women back in the day because that was a pretty lame pickup line."

"Pickup line?" Now it was his turn to laugh. "You think I'm trying to pick you up?"

"No! I'm just saying it sure sounded like one."

"Gorgeous, I never needed some lame pickup line to get a woman to come home with me. All I had to do was look at them like this and smile" - he made sure to demonstrate for her- "and they were soaking wet and ready to go."

And damn him if that lethal combination didn't cause a sudden lurch in her belly as well.

"I'm sure," she said feigning skepticism and looking away to break the hold that intense gaze had over her.

"And why would I need to pick you up when you're already coming home with me tonight!?"

"It's not by choice. Don't ever forget that little detail."

"Ok then I'll have you bunk in Zander's barrack tonight. He's the guy who you pissed off earlier. How's that sound?" When he saw the look she flashed him, he nudged her shoulder knowingly. "See? So it IS by choice!"

She rolled her eyes at his antics. "This conversation is going nowhere. And I'm tired. It's been a hell of a long day."

"That's why I came to get you out of here."

"I can't leave till Carla gets back."

"She's on her way."

As if on cue, she burst through the door. "Sorry I'm late. Got caught up with some of the other women in the laundry room."

"Gossiping like a bunch of little birds, I assume?" Negan teased.

"Of course! What else is there to do around here?" She winked at Fiona in a show of female camaraderie. "I'll have to introduce you to everyone tomorrow."

Fiona smiled weakly. She didn't think she wanted to meet a group of women who by now were probably well aware that she was shacking up with Negan. For all she knew, some could be old lovers, spurned lovers, jealous current lovers or hopeful want-to-be  
lovers. She would demand a rundown by Carla before she even considered stepping into that sort of lions' den.

"So how's our patient doing?"

Fiona gave her a quick briefing on her plans for Bryson for the night and what signs and symptoms to watch out for.

"Sounds good. Now go get cleaned up and get some rest."

"Thanks Carla," Negan said. "Ethan will be by around midnight to relieve you."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine here. Just take care of the Doc."

"I would if she'd let me." He winked at Carla then grinned knowingly at Fiona who ignored him and walked out.

They walked in silence back to the house. Night had fallen and the community was eerily quiet.

Fiona's exhaustion was finally starting to sink in and she could feel her limbs grow heavier with each step. She had slept fitfully last night but she had a feeling tonight she would sleep like the dead. The coppery scent of the blood which soaked her  
clothes was making her nauseous and the beans and granola bar had left her stomach a long time ago. She was famished again but also felt too tired to even think about mustering enough energy to eat.

Negan let them inside with his key, which reminded Fiona she still had the spare in the pocket of her jeans.

"I'm going to do a wash," he said. "So go take a shower and leave the clothes outside the bathroom door with whatever else you need cleaned."

She was halfway up the stairs when she realized if she gave him all her clothes from yesterday too, she would have nothing to change into. "I'll need something to wear." She closed her eyes and waited for a smartass, sexist retort, but it never came.

"I'll leave something for you."

"Thank you."

She took a quick shower, feeling somewhat more human afterwards but still exhausted, and with a towel wrapped snugly around her body, she opened the door just wide enough to grab the clothes that were lying there in a pile outside and then quickly  
shut it again in case he was planning an ambush. But she was being paranoid for no reason. The house was quiet. Maybe he had gone back out or had gone to sleep, because she had noticed that once again, the door to his bedroom was shut tight.

A flannel shirt. Size large.

That's all he had left for her. Geez, could he spare it?

She slipped into it and tried to ignore the distinctive male but clean scent embedded in it-a combination of fresh soap and sandalwood. She had to roll up the sleeves a few times and then buttoned every button except the top two. Ok, it was warm.  
And pretty darn comfortable, too. And it fell past her knees, the perfect granny nightgown, not even the least bit revealing. She silently apologized to him for her ungrateful thoughts only seconds earlier and returned to her room to get a pair of  
underwear before making her way downstairs.

She was surprised to see he hadn't left the house after all.

He was sitting in the living room, reading. His legs were resting on the coffee table in front of him with one crossed over the other at the ankles, and he had on those black glasses which she had noticed yesterday. He had showered too, and shaved, and  
his wet hair was slicked back off his forehead. He was wearing a Tshirt and sweatpants, and his feet were bare.

For the briefest moments, Fiona forgot he was the enemy and just admired the male specimen before her. Whereas most women were attracted to and turned on by the sight of guys working out, to see a man not only reading a book, but enthralled by that book,  
was her own personal aphrodisiac.

So he wasn't just some tough jock bully. He was an intellectual as well.

She would have never expected it from someone like him.

"Now who's watching who?" he drawled, without even looking up from the book.

She blushed guiltily. "I was going to the kitchen."

"Your feet weren't moving."

"I thought you went out again. Didn't expect to see you sitting there."

He finally looked up, taking off his reading glasses. And he smiled at the sight of her wearing his shirt. She was swimming in it, and it covered up most of that delicious little body, but fuck if she still didn't look incredibly sexy wearing it. Maybe  
it was the knowing there was not much on underneath it. "I did good again. That's two for two."

"You did," she conceded and even graced him with a half smile. "Thank you. It's warm and comfortable."

"You cold? I could start a fire."

"No, thanks. I just want to crawl into bed after I eat something."

"Then let's go eat something." He saved the place in his book with his glasses and stood up, motioning for her to follow him. Once in the kitchen, he had her take a seat at the table while he rummaged around in the cabinet. "Okaaaaay...on  
the menu tonight-soup, soup and more soup...Cheddar Broccoli, Minestrone, Chicken and Rice, Italian Wedding, or Cream of Mushroom."

Fiona shrugged. Anything was better than beans. "Whatever you're having. I can't eat a whole can by myself. Just no mushrooms, please."

"Italian Wedding it is, then."

He emptied the contents into a pan on the stove and turned on the gas. While it cooked, he grabbed two glasses and filled them with water. The soup was boiling within no time, and he separated it into two bowls and placed them on the table. Then, sitting  
down across from her, he leaned back in his chair, waiting for it to cool.

"Fuck, what I wouldn't give for a ribeye steak, medium rare, right now. Topped with caramelized onions and garlic butter, and a loaded baked potato on the side."

She closed her eyes, stubbornly trying to block out the vision. "Stop that. It doesn't help."

"What about you?"

Fiona shook her head. "I'm not playing this game. It only makes things worse."

"Come on. Lighten up, gorgeous. Name me one meal and I'll change the subject."

She started eating, blowing on each spoonful before tentatively putting it to her mouth. For canned soup, full of salt and preservatives, it tasted heavenly. "This is good. Got any crackers?"

She was only joking so she nearly spewed out the next bite in shock when he opened another cabinet and pulled out a box of Triscuits with a flourish and a smile. "Holy shit. I was just kidding."

"They are a bit stale."

"Don't care. Need carbs." She held out her hand but he wouldn't give up the box.

"First, your meal."

"You're bribing me with a box of Triscuits?"

"Apocalypse, baby. Anything goes."

She laughed again, (she seemed to be doing a little bit of that tonight, wasn't she?) and finally gave in, telling him what he wanted to know. "Fine. Cheeseburger with fries and a fountain soda Coca Cola with ice. Cheap, simple but god-awfully good."

Pleased with her answer, he handed over the box.

Fiona took a cracker and tasted it. "Not bad. They'll do." She grabbed a few more and gave him back the box.

A comfortable silence fell over them as they both finished their meal. Then, a buzzer went off from somewhere in the house and Negan stood up. "Washing machine," he explained.

"I can do it," Fiona offered. "Tell me where it is."

He stopped her from getting up. "Just sit and relax. I'll be right back."

Once alone, she sat there, staring at his half empty water glass and his empty soup bowl and thinking to herself that this wasn't how things were supposed to be. What the hell was she doing!? Guilt washed over her as she was reminded about her friends  
and how they were probably working their asses off to obtain enough goods to satisfy Negan just so she could come back home. Yet here she was, sharing dinner and conversation with that same enemy, and somewhat enjoying herself in the process!

It had to stop.

She couldn't fall for his tricks and allow herself to get close to him, no matter how charming he tried to be.

From now on, she needed to keep a safe and cold distance at all times.

She was so lost in her troubling thoughts she hadn't even realized he sat back down until he leaned across the table and waved a hand in front of her face. "Hello? Anybody home?"

"Sorry. Just zoning out now. I'm tired."

"You were miles away. Somewhere good, I hope. Like a sandy beach or a pub with that cheeseburger." He smiled that boyish smile but she didn't smile back.

"I was thinking about tomorrow. Can I come with you?"

"Fuck no." He didn't even need to think about it.

"Why not?"

"Bryson needs you here."

"That can't be the only reason. Besides, we won't be gone that long."

"I don't want them seeing you. I want their imagination to think the worst. But I AM going to enjoy telling Rick in great detail how we fuck, how often we fuck, where we fuck... You get the point."

"Please don't," Fiona begged pathetically.

"I have to play dirty. He's not giving me what I want. "

"And he's not going to."

"Which tells me he's fine with letting me keep on fucking you then."

"It's a small price to pay."

"That's bullshit!" Negan slammed his fist on the table, starting to get worked up. "And you know it!" He leaned over the table until his face was inches from hers. "Because if you were mine, I'd make damn sure NOBODY fucking touched you! Ever! No  
matter the fucking cost! Or I'd fucking kill them! With my bare hands!"

Fiona's heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his eyes and the emotion in his voice. The possessiveness and overprotectiveness of which he was speaking was something foreign to her. She used to think Rick sort of had the same mindframe, but well, when  
Negan put it the way he did, Rick really wasn't doing much at all to protect her, was he?

STOP, Fiona. she scolded herself. That's exactly what he wants. For you to doubt Rick and the people you care about. So stop right now.

She looked away, embarrassed by both his implications and her unfair thoughts.

"You're not going to hurt anyone tomorrow are you?"

Negan sat back in his chair with a smug smile on his face. He could tell his words had gotten to her, but she was trying to act like she didn't care, so she changed the subject. Funny thing was, he was speaking the truth. If he and Rick's roles had been  
reversed, he would have killed anyone who tried to touch her- or hurt her. He would have never let her get into the truck that night to be taken away in the first place. Even if it meant getting himself or any of his people killed in the process,  
he would have fought like hell.

"I don't intend to," he said, finally answering her question. "Unless your psychotic boy-sorry-fuck friend tries something stupid. He IS known for that, from what I hear."

"Just please keep things civil. That's all I ask."

"Don't think you're in the position to ask much of anything, gorgeous."

On that note, she stood up, defeated, and placed her bowl and glass in the sink. "Just figured it couldn't hurt to try," she said weakly. "I'm going to bed. Thank you for dinner." Without making eye contact, she walked out of the kitchen.

"Fiona."

She was so used to hearing him call her every name but her own, that the sound of it coming from his mouth was like a shock to her system. She stopped and turned slowly, regarding him with weary eyes.

Negan could see the exhaustion on her face and in the slump of her posture. His shirt was starting to slip down on one side, revealing collarbone and shoulder, and a whole lot of creamy, kissable skin beneath. He wanted so badly to scoop her in his arms  
and carry her upstairs to bed, just to tuck her in and nothing more. She had quite a day, and the fact that she was even still standing after it all impressed him more than he would ever admit. But since he couldn't comfort her physically, the least  
he could do was put her worried mind to rest, at least for tonight.

"No one will get hurt tomorrow," he said quietly. "You have my word."

He watched as her gaze softened in surprise as she looked over at him from the doorway. And fuck, if it didn't touch him in a place somewhere other than below his belt.

"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, and then headed upstairs. 


	8. Chapter 8

Abraham was keeping morning watch on the front gate tower, waiting for Sasha to join him on their shift, and thinking about how awesome it had been to fall asleep with her in his arms last night. He was falling hard and fast and giddily enjoying every  
second of it. Between Rick's new romance with Fiona and then Glen and Maggie actually creating a life together, he had finally been convinced to take that jump and risk it all in the name of love. And yes, he was falling in love with Sasha. The only  
problem was when and how to tell her.

The sound of cars coming up the road dragged him out of his lovedrunk thoughts.

A multitude of them.

He lifted his binoculars and took a peek as they approached Alexandria's gates.

Saviors.

With Negan himself at the wheel of the first black SUV in line.

Cursing under his breath, Abraham put down the binoculars and lifted his gun, holding it at the ready. They just went away yesterday with crates full of supplies. So what the fuck did they want now?

Negan stepped out of the truck and mock saluted him. "At ease, soldier."

"Fuck you," Abraham spat back, keeping his gun trained on Negan.

Negan held out his hands. "I just came to talk to Rick. I''m not armed."

"You may not be. But the twenty-somewhat men you dragged with you are."

"They won't fire unless I tell them to. And I don't plan on telling them to unless you fire first. Now quit wasting my time and let me in."

"You're not coming inside."

Negan rolled his eyes. "I thought we went through this the other night. When I come knocking, you LET ME IN. What's not to understand?"

Abraham turned around and looked down over Alexandria for someone walking nearby whose attention he could catch, because he couldn't leave his post to go get Rick himself. Sasha was finally approaching so he called out to her. "Go tell Rick we have some  
visitors."

He saw her eyes widen in fear but did as she was told, and sprinted back the way she had come.

*************

Rick was sitting at the kitchen table with Carl and Enid, feeding Judith breakfast.

Daryl had let Sasha in. He had been there since 7 am, along with Michonne, trying to discuss strategy with Rick. They hadn't made much progress. No idea they came up with seemed like a very good one.

Rick looked surprised to see Sasha. "What's wrong? Why aren't you on watch with Abraham?"

"We have visitors. He sent me to come get you."

"Fuck," Daryl growled. "Let's go."

Carl went to stand up but Rick stopped him. "You stay here with Judith and Enid."

"No! I'm-"

"I said STAY HERE!" Rick yelled. "And if you follow me, I'm taking away all your gun privileges for a month and you won't be allowed on any more supply runs!" Then, motioning to Daryl, Michonne and Sasha, he stormed out.

"Who is it?" he asked Sasha as they hurried back to the gates.

"Don't know. I wasn't up there yet."

"It's gotta be Negan's men," Daryl guessed. "I told you what we gave them yesterday wasn't enough to keep them at bay."

"It's all we have!" Rick snapped back.

Michonne flashed Daryl a warning look not to antagonize Rick any further because he was obviously already too high strung this morning. And now he had what was probably a group of angry Saviors and their leader knocking down their gates to demand more  
supplies. Even she, herself, who was usually so calm, cool and collected, was starting to panic because there was no way this confrontation could end well.

They just had to keep reminding themselves what was at stake before they did anything reckless.

Glen, Maggie, Carol, Aaron and Gabriel had joined them by the gates, all holding guns. Word spread like wildfire in Alexandria and everyone was always ready to defend their home when necessary.

"Help me with the gate," Rick said to Daryl and the two of them pulled the heavy wooden apparatus open. Negan was standing alone on the other side, hands in the pockets of his jeans and apparently unarmed, but his men flew out of their vehicles with weapons  
once they saw the armed group of people behind Rick.

"Seriously Rick?" Negan jeered. "Do you really need that small army behind you? Can't we just talk the two of us, man to man? I didn't come here to start a fight."

"Then to what do we owe this lovely pleasure?" Abraham mocked from his post above them.

Negan looked up at him, shading his eyes from the sun. "You have a serious problem with speaking when you're not being spoken to, huh soldier? Shut the fuck up or I'll shut you up myself."

"What do you want?" Rick asked angrily.

"You know what I want."

"We gave you half our food yesterday."

"But no guns. When I said half your shit the other night I meant HALF YOUR SHIT! What's not to understand?"

"What do you need them for?"

"To protect my people, same as you."

"Right. More like needing them to kill innocent people when you can't bully them into giving you 'half their shit'."

Negan tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Rick. "You mocking me, asshole?"

"What do you think?"

Negan took a step closer to Rick, bringing them face to face. He stood at least two heads taller than him but Rick didn't seem the least bit intimated nor did he back down. "You know what I think, Rick?" Negan said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I  
think your girlfriend is one of the best fucks I've ever had." He saw Rick flinch ever so slightly and knew he had hit a nerve. So he continued, just as ruthless as he has promised Fiona he would be. "She rides me like a racehorse. And damn, seeing  
that hot little body bouncing up and down on my dick, well, you get the point because I'm sure you've seen it, too. Does she scream your name when you make her come? Don't think so, because according to her, you've never been able to take her that  
far." He chuckled as Rick lunged for him and Daryl held him back. "And don't you just love that cute little birthmark on her right hipbone? I make sure I always kiss it right before I go down and eat her out."

"You bring her back here today and then we'll talk," Rick spat out, feeling sick to his stomach with everything he was hearing. He didn't know how much was truth and how much fabrication but either way, he couldn't gamble on it being all lies. He was  
tired of bluffing and holding back, pretending he didn't care. It wasn't doing any good. A man like Negan wouldn't back down for anything. And he needed to get Fiona out of his clutches as soon as possible.

"Today? Noooo. Can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I haven't gotten tired of her yet." Another cocky smile. "And I haven't fucked her in the shower yet. And she hasn't blown me yet." He flashed Rick a smug smile. "Gotta build up the anticipation, ya know?"

"It's today or never."

"Really? So if I don't bring her today then I get to keep her for good? You'd bluff like that with your girl's life at stake? I thought you loved her." He shook his head in mock disappointment. "I was just telling her last night that if I were in your  
shoes, I'd kill anyone who touched her. With my bare hands. Yet you don't seem to care if I or any of my men take whatever liberties with her that we want for as long as we want."

"You haven't given me a choice."

"There always a choice."

It seemed like forever until Rick answered. He swallowed thickly and had to practically force the words out. "Bring her back here today and you'll get the fucking guns." There. he said it. As much as it killed him to hand over some of their armory to  
this group of killers, he needed to choose Fiona over the weapons.

"All joking aside for a moment, I really can't. She's taking care of one of my men. He got bit and she had to cut off his hand. It wasn't a pretty sight but she did a fucking hell of a job. He needs to be monitored for the next few days for infection  
and bleeding. I don't have anyone with her caliber of knowledge who can do that."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't give a fuck what you believe. It's the truth, though."

Rick looked at Daryl and Michonne for guidance. They both nodded slightly, telling him to go along with it. "48 hours, then. that's all you get. In two days I'll expect her back here. At the crack of dawn."

"Crack of dawn may be tough. It's a good 30 minute drive and we like to sleep in because our nights are pretty late." When he saw the unamused expression on Ricks face, he threw his head back and chuckled. Then, becoming serious agin he said, "Finally.  
You're wisening up. Glad we've come to an understanding." With a smug grin of satisfaction, he held out his hand for Rick to shake but Rick just turned around and walked away.

"Shut the gate," he called back over his shoulder his friends.

Daryl stepped up in his place. "2 days," he muttered to Negan. "If she ain't here, we're coming for ya."

"Is that so?" Negan asked, amused.

"And if I find out you've hurt her in any way, I'll kill you myself."

Negan looked at him in shock. "Look at you! You've actually got a bigger set of balls than your fearless leader."

"I mean it."

"Don't worry. I ain't giving her anything she doesn't want. Trust me on that." He winked knowingly and turned back to his car.

"Asshole," Daryl muttered loud enough for him to hear before he closed the gates, making sure every lock was in place. 


	9. Chapter 9

The bright sunlight streaming from the window woke Fiona from a deep, restful sleep. Squinting, she rubbed her eyes then stretched her arms over her head. Rolling over, she nestled back under the covers, forgetting for a moment where she was.

But then the events of yesterday came flooding back.

Bryson, her fainting episode, dinner with Negan and her resolution to not get close to him no matter how charming he tried to be. She still remembered the look in his eyes as he called her name and promised not to hurt any of her friends today. His gaze  
and his voice had oozed sincerity but she didn't want to fall prey to his mind tricks. He must be at Alexandria by now. God, she hoped it was going as smoothly as possible. Her cheeks heated up when her imagination began to wonder exactly what he  
was saying about her to Rick and the group.

Dragging herself out of bed, she noticed the pile of clean, folded clothes sitting on the dresser. A note lay beside them, with a key on top.

Didn't your mama teach you to empty your pockets before doing a wash!?

Ok. Not only had he done her laundry, he had folded it too.

And then left a note that bordered on cute.

Why was he making it so hard to hate him?

But the fact the clothes were there in her room meant he had snuck in sometime this morning or overnight to leave them. Which reinforced the creepy stalker thing again. How long had he stayed? had he watched her while she slept? Had he touched her in  
any way?

She rolled her eyes at her stupidity.

Come on, Fiona. You surely would have woken up if he had laid a hand on you.

Would she have, though? She was so exhausted last night that what if she had slept TOO soundly?

Killing those thoughts before they snowballed any further, she grabbed some clothes and retreated into the bathroom to get changed. When she went downstairs, the house was indeed empty, but he had left coffee for her keeping warm in the carafe. She found  
a box of cereal and poured a small bowl, silently thanking the Hilltop cows for fresh milk, even though she knew their owners didnt share it out of the goodness of their hearts.

Once energized after a quick breakfast and two cups of coffee, she went back upstairs to brush her teeth, then grabbed the key and left the house, locking the door behind her. As she headed to the infirmary, she knew Bryson had to be awake by now and  
was a bit worried to see how he was handling not only the physical pain, but more importantly, the emotional and mental pain of having a missing limb.

A woman whom she had never seen before was sitting on the steps outside the infirmary. Dark brown curls fell past her shoulders and she was dressed all in black. She could have been anywhere from in her late twenties to early forties. But even from  
a distance Fiona could tell she had what was commonly referred to as resting bitch face.

"Finally able to drag yourself out of Negan's bed to come check on your patient?" she jabbed once Fiona was in earshot.

Fiona bit back a snide reply and held out her hand. "I'm Fiona. Nice to meet you." Now that they were face to face, Fiona could tell she was definitely on the older end of that age range due to the lines that creased her forehead and crows feet around  
her eyes. She was still beautiful however, and had breasts Fiona would have killed for back in the day.

The woman blatantly ignored her attempt at introduction. "It's 10 o'clock. I was told you'd be here by 8."

"I'm sorry. I don't have an alarm and overslept. Yesterday was rough, in case you hadn't heard."

"Aww. Poor baby. Must be rough fucking Negan all night, too."

Fiona narrowed her eyes, unamused. "Look, I'm not here by choice. I was taken by your people. Remember that."

"You weren't taken by US. You were taken by Negan."

"So is this a jealousy thing, then? Because honestly, he's all yours. Believe me, I'm NOT interested."

The woman studied her skeptically, as if she didn't believe her. "Well, neither am I. Anymore", she added sourly under her breath.

Fiona looked at her in surprise. So this had been one of Negan's 'amusements' as Carla had hinted at yesterday. A barely perceptible pang of jealousy nudged her as she pictured him in bed with this beautiful woman, but then retreated as quickly as it  
had come. "Then ease up. I've done nothing wrong."

"He dropped me once you came along. So you've done plenty." Giving Fiona a demeaning once over, she sneered maliciously. "Can't figure out the fuck why, though. I certainly have the better body."

Fiona rolled her eyes. Were they back in high school here? Comparing cup sizes? Her patience had worn thin and anger was starting to surface. Which was why she made the mistake of saying what she said next.

"I already told you I'm not here by choice. If he dropped you, well then maybe he got sick of that 'hot' body of yours, or you just don't blow him the way I do." She added a smug smile for added effect. "Either way, I have work to do so thanks for  
your help but you can run along now. I'll be sure to put in a good word for you when I see him later."

The woman stood up and glared at her. "Bitch."

"Sticks and stones", Fiona retorted airily, recycling one of Negan's more tamer lines. Then she pushed past the woman angrily and made to go inside.

"I'd watch my back if I were you," she called out as she was leaving.

When she heard the threat, Fiona paused at the door with an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. She turned to say something but the woman was already halfway across the lawn and out of earshot. She tried telling herself no one would try anything  
and face Negan's wrath but it would also be foolish to develop a false sense of security, because, well, you just never knew. And why the fuck did she lie about giving him a blow job when she knew it would serve no purpose but to antagonize her further?  
She should have just left well enough alone.

Whatever.

She had better things to do than worry about the jealousy of a spurned lover.

When she entered the infirmary she was surprised to see her patient sitting up in the stretcher and smiling sheepishly. "So you met Lisa. Sorry about that."

"Yes, I just had the pleasure as I'm sure you heard. But - actually forget all you heard. " She shook her head and blushed fiercely. "It's not true."

"The part about you and Negan? Really? Then what's he doing with you over there if you're not-?" When he saw Fiona's mortified expression his voice trailed off and he smiled sheepishly. "Ok ok. Sorry. Not my business. Getting back to Lisa though, she's  
a bit rough around the edges."

"I've noticed."

"She loves him, though."

"Who?" Fiona was so distracted by seeing Bryson so alert and in such a talkative mood that she wasn't following the obvious line of conversation.

"Negan."

"Oh. Yeah? That's great. Not that I don't enjoy hearing about the soap opera drama around here, because we've got our own juicy share in Alexandria, believe me, but I'd rather talk about you instead. How do you feel?"

"Better than I thought I would, actually. The pain is manageable. And I'm alive. I hear I have you to thank."

"Your friends got you back here in time. And Carla was a huge help. It wasn't just me."

"Smart, beautiful and humble. Sure I'm not hallucinating from the pain meds?"

He flashed her an attractive smile and she found herself blushing at the compliment even though he had to be fifteen years her junior. "I'm actually not sure what you're on right now and what your last dose was. Hopefully someone has been keeping a log."  
She walked over the counter to grab a new pair of gloves and saw, with relief, the piece of paper with times, doses and meds.

Carla, you're a lifesaver, she thought gratefully.

"Ok let's take a look." She gingerly unwrapped the gauze bandage and inspected the wound. Edges looked clean, no bleeding. "Looks good. I'm going to leave it open to breathe a bit and cover it later on for overnight again." She studied him carefully as  
she took his blood pressure. He was pale, expected because of the amount of blood loss, but his pressure was holding and he didn't have a fever.

"Clean bill of health, doc?"

"For now. You still have a ways to go. So one day at a time, ok? And make sure you are eating and drinking enough."

"I am. And thank God I'm a righty. Or I'd be spilling food down my shirt."

She smirked at him in amusement. "So the one handed jokes are starting already?"

"Of course! Great coping mechanism from what I hear."

They exchanged another smile and Fiona got a new dose of antibiotics ready. She attached it to his IV then took a seat beside him again. "So we have to talk."

"About Negan? He's a cool dude. Always has our best interests at heart. He will let you go soon enough so don't worry about that. He's a man of his word. And he doesn't love Lisa back in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't wondering. Not one little bit. I WAS going to talk about your hand."

"Oh." He made a face. "But that's not nearly as interesting. So do you have a boyfriend or husband back home?"

"Yes." She decided to humor him. If he wanted to gossip and talk about trivial things then so be it. He deserved it after the ordeal he had suffered.

"Which?"

"Boyfriend." After all they had been through together it still felt strange referring to Rick by that title.

"Do you love him?"

The slightest hesitation only because it was a love she couldn't quite define as of yet. "I do."

"You hesitated."

"I did not."

"Did too." He winked at her playfully. "Negan doesn't believe in love. He makes fun of the rest of us all the time. Says there's no place for it in a zombie apocalypse. I say he's too afraid to get close to someone only to lose them again. So is that  
why you hesitated? Are you afraid to call it love, too, because you're afraid you will lose him eventually?"

"I fear that every day," she admitted quietly. "But I love him. And he knows it. There's just many definitions of love and sometimes it can't be folded into one neat little package."

"Are you getting all philosophical on me now?"

"You started it! I was ready to talk medicine!"

"I'd rather talk love."

"Ok so tell me. Who do YOU love?"

His smile broadened, stretching from ear to ear. "Her name is Stella. I'll introduce her to you next time she comes in here."

"Has she been by to visit?"

"Last night.

"Sorry I missed her."

"She's Lisa's younger sister and nothing like her."

"Lucky for you."

They exchanged a smile and Fiona patted his arm. "We do need to talk about your hand but for now you should get some rest."

"What about it? Or lack thereof?"

"I just haven't decided if I'm going to cover the stump yet and with what."

"Can't I just fold a shirt sleeve over it?"

"It can't stay open like that. Risk of infection."

"Right. Good point. That's why you're the doc. I'm sure you'll think of something."

"I'm gonna go sit outside and brainstorm right now. Holler if you need anything."

"Will do. And doc?"

Fiona turned at the door. She could see the tears that had welled up in his eyes.

"Thanks again. I don't even know how to begin repaying you." He had been trying so hard not to cry but couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Just stay strong. And make every moment with Stella count," she added with a wink before walking out. 


	10. Chapter 10

The day passed without any sign of Negan.

Fiona kept waiting for him to stop by the infirmary to check on Bryson and to update her on his visit to Alexandria. She was dying to hear how things went and had been sitting with a ball of worry in the pit of her stomach all day just thinking about  
it. Carla mentioned she had seen him briefly but then he had taken off again, supposedly on another business errand, this time to the Hilltop community. Carla introduced Fiona to her daughter Nikki and the three of them spent the afternoon chatting  
away making small talk. Carla didn't mention her run in with Lisa earlier that morning so either she hadn't heard about it or was tactfully avoiding the subject and remaining a neutral party between them. A part of Fiona wanted to try to pry more  
information out of Carla about Negan but from what she hinted at yesterday, he was a pretty private person so she probably didn't know much more than Fiona did at this point.

Her shift ended at 7 and Carla officially took over for the overnight. She said goodbye to her and Nikki and left the Infirmary. It was already dark out and the temperature had dropped significantly. She walked quickly across the lawn and frowned  
when she didn't see Negan's truck parked in front of the house. Where the hell had he gone and why wasn't he back yet? A part of her for a very brief second actually started to worry about him. What if something had happened? But then when she remembered  
how he had loomed over her friends a few nights ago, threatening them while swinging that deadly bat, she shivered and realized she had absolutely nothing to worry about. He could most certainly take care of himself.

The light over the door was off, so Fiona stood on the porch fumbling with the key in the dark. It kept sticking and she started cursing at him under her breath for not giving her a heads up about the temperamental lock.

Suddenly, a piece of cloth with a strong odor was pressed to her face from behind and a rough hand went around her waist. She felt herself being lifted up effortlessly and carried away right before she lost consciousness.

****************************

When Fiona slowly came to, she was sitting on the grass against a tree. Her wrists were bound behind her back and a tight gag covered her mouth. She wondered if she was still within the gates of the community or somewhere outside. Her vision cleared and  
she saw a mountain of a man standing over her. Her woozy mind vaguely recognized him as Zander, the one she had thrown out of the infirmary the day Bryson lost his hand.

"Not so feisty NOW, are we, little cunt?" His voice was rough and gravelly and he laughed while taking one last puff on his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and stomping it out with his foot. Then he started to pace back and forth in front of  
her. "You think you can come around here and act like a tough little shit and get away with it? Well, sorry but it doesn't work that way. Especially after what you did. And you know what I just found out you did?" He got down on one knee so his face  
was level with hers. His breath reeked of nicotine. "It was you and your people who killed my wife. She was in that warehouse last week when you took them down and set the others on fire!" His eyes blazed with anger and his hands were shaking. He  
wanted so badly to end her life in retribution right then and there but he forced himself to maintain some semblance of self control. At least for the time being.

He swallowed back his rage and continued to pace. "Then you have the NERVE to show up here, order US around like you own the fuckin' place, and embarrass me in front of my people! You think you're safe just because Negan is hot for you and keeps you shacked  
up in that mansion with him with every luxury? Well guess what darlin', he ain't here now to keep you safe. It's just you and me and we're gonna have some fun before I fuckin' kill you. And yes, I'm goin' to fuckin' kill you. Because that's what Negan  
SHOULD have done that night he captured you all but for some reason he wussed out. You don't go around killing our people and not have to pay a fuckin' price! And you certainly don't get to come and live with us in our community when you're  
the fuckin' enemy!" He kicked her in the side and she keeled over. "Now get on your knees, bitch."

Fiona struggled to stand. The throbbing pain in her side radiated down her leg and with her hands bound behind her, she couldn't use them as leverage on her thighs.

"I said get up!" He shoved his hands under her armpits and hoisted her up. Fiona took advantage of the support to kick out with both her feet which thankfully weren't bound. She had been aiming for his groin but in her weakened state only connected to  
his lower stomach instead. He grunted in pain, then slapped her hard across the face, causing her to fall back down to her knees.

"That's right, cunt. Stay right there in that position like the whore that you are." He started to unbuckle his belt and the anger Fiona had previously seen in his eyes had transformed into lust. His breathing grew heavier and he licked his lips in anticipation.  
"This is what happens when you brag about giving head. Not only do you break an innocent woman's heart but then suddenly, everyone wants a piece of you. To see if you're really as good as you say, because fuck, you know us guys can't resist  
a good blow. There's nothing in the world like it." He laughed as he brought his revolver up to her head. "I'm gonna remove that gag now. If you try anything funny, I'll blow your pretty little brains out."

He tore the rag away from her mouth and then roughly fisted a handful of her long hair and pushed her head into his groin. His cock had sprung free from his pants and was hard as a rock.

Fiona balked at the sight, desperately wracking her brain with options for escape but there were none. The cold silver metal of the gun was flush against her temple and her hands were still bound behind her back.

Her hands!

"I'm gonna need a hand or two asshole," she croaked hoarsely, pushing back against him to distance herself from that ...thing.

"Nice try, cunt. But you'll do it without. Let's see how good you really are with nothin' but that sweet mouth and tongue."

He pushed her forward again and she had no choice but to give in. She took him in her mouth, reeling at the smell and feel of him, so dirty and foreign. She gagged once, twice, but fought the bile which she felt traveling up her chest back down to her  
stomach. He started to moan and she could tell his grip on the gun was loosening because it was slowly sliding away from her temple. Sneaking a peek up at him, she saw his eyes were closed and his head was tilted back.

She wouldn't get a better chance than this. It was now or never.

Fighting back another wave of nausea, she took him deep, causing him to moan even louder. The gun was now resting on her shoulder as he was lost in the waves of pleasure she was unwillingly providing. She brought her elbow up hard, connecting with his  
forearm, causing him to drop the gun.

Then she sprung up and made a run for it.

A full litany of expletives exploded from his mouth and he took chase.

Fiona had no idea where she was or where she was going, but she kept her feet moving as she weaved in and out of bushes and between trees. He was always close behind, taunting her, calling her names, and shouting how he was going to make her finish what  
she started. She screamed for help numerous times, which she realized was probably futile because the only things who would hear her would be walkers, yet she had to try in case someone, anyone, was out there. She made the foolish mistake of looking  
back over her shoulder which caused her to trip on a root and she went sprawling face first to the ground, unable to break her fall since her hands were still tied behind her back.

Pain shot through her head and the whole right side of her face felt like it was on fire. She struggled to get up and keep going but he was on her in an instant. He tackled her back down to the ground and punched her again, harder than last  
time. "You are so dead, bitch," he spat in her face. "But first I'm gonna fuck you. Then I'm gonna kill you."

He shoved his knee between her legs and tried to tug down her jeans with only one hand because the other was pinning both of hers over her head. Fiona thrashed and struggled beneath him with all her might but she was no match for his strength, especially  
in her weakened, half conscious state. Her vision kept blurring until she lost full sight from her right eye. His hand was now inside her pants, and he finally succeeded at pulling them over her hips and down, tearing at her underwear. "You wet for  
me, whore? Like you get wet for Negan?"

He groped at her roughly and Fiona whimpered, still writhing beneath him and trying to fend him off with every ounce of strength she had left. She kept crying for help but her screams had turned into weak, barely audible pleas. Zander finally overpowered  
her enough to enter her roughly and the pain was worse than all her other injuries combined.

"Negan," she moaned, desperately calling out for the last person in the world she'd ever expect to ask for help yet the only person who could truly help her now.

"Don't you dare call his name when I'm the one fucking you," Zander growled, each thrust harder than the last. "Look at me, bitch. Say MY name!" He slapped her again when she didn't answer. "Say it!"

Like a god in answer to her prayer, Negan suddenly appeared over Zander's shoulder. Fiona figured he was nothing more than a mirage and that she must be hallucinating from all the blows she took to her face, but still, the sight of him brought a different  
kind of tears to her eyes. She heard a loud thud followed by a crack and when something wet and warm exploded over her face, she gasped, because it meant he was actually there in the flesh and very real. Zander slowly slid off of her and crumpled  
to the ground at her side. She pulled her jeans back up over her ripped panties and sat up too quickly because a fierce wave of vertigo overtook her and she collapsed back down to the grass. She heard another thud and crack, followed by another, then  
another.

It was the most sickening sound she ever heard.

Yet it was also the most welcome sound.

She ran her hands down her wet face and they came away red with blood and brain matter. Then she looked over at Zander's lifeless body with his head beaten to a pulp but didn't feel the least bit repulsed. Instead a sick sense of satisfaction and revenge  
pulsed through her veins.

Finally, she glanced up at Negan, where he stood towering over her, that deadly barbed wire bat hanging limply at his side, gruesomely dripping with blood. He was looking down at her with the most strangest yet emotional expression on his face. It was  
a mixture of horror, sadness and regret.

He fell to his knees beside her and gathered her into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Fiona. I'm so sorry."

She could have sworn she heard him crying right before she passed out again. 


	11. Chapter 11

Fiona woke in the semi darkness and saw a large man looming over her. Adrenaline kicked in and she sat up in bed and pushed out at him with her hands. "No!" She screamed frantically. "NOOOO!"

Negan tried to grab her but she kept fighting him off.

"Don't touch me!"

He was finally able to trap her arms and held her tight against him. "Shhhh," he spoke soothingly in her ear. "It's me, gorgeous. It's just me. We're home. You're safe now."

That voice.

Her savior.

Fiona stilled in his arms as fragmented memories came flooding back-Zander kidnapping her outside Negan's house, waking up tied and gagged, running through the woods trying to get away from him, getting beaten and raped simultaneously, and then finally  
Negan bashing his brains out with Lucille. She vaguely remembered something about him crying while apologizing to her, and the heavy scent of coppery blood which had covered both of them.

He must have showered because his shirt was dry and he smelled fresh- that clean sandalwood scent she had already begun to associate with him. She felt a strange sense of security in his embrace which she couldn't quite explain, and she was unable to  
stop the tears from flowing once they started. She had almost died tonight. The gravity of that revelation was almost too much to handle.

It was only when she felt him smoothing her hair and whispering soft platitudes over and over that she realized she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding her emotions. And she certainly wasn't supposed to be allowing herself to be comforted by  
him. She pushed him away stubbornly and wiped her eyes. She really didn't want him to see her cry.

"I need to shower, " she said matter of factly.

He shook his head. "You took one too many blows to the head and face and passed out twice already. You ain't getting in that shower." He cocked his head as if rethinking that statement. "Well not alone, anyway. I'd help you if you'd like, but somehow  
I don't think that will fly."

She ignored his attempt at humor. She really wasn't in the joking mood. "Do you have a bathtub?"

"I do."

"Please then. Let me take a bath." Her tough act faded fast and she kept her eyes averted, ashamed. "I need...I need to wash him off of me... I just need to get clean. I feel so ...dirty." She choked back another sob and a fierce shiver wracked  
her body. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed tight to stop the trembling.

"Hey. Look at me!"

His voice was so stern that Fiona had no choice but to oblige.

Negan took in her tear-filled eyes, one swollen so bad it was practically closed, and her bruised cheek and mouth, and felt his breath catch in his throat. He had almost lost her. He didn't know why the thought affected him so much and made it difficult  
to breathe, but for whatever the reason, he chose not dwell on it at this moment. He gently ran his thumb across her bruises and down over her split lip and saw her wince slightly.

When he spoke, his voice was soft again.

"You're not dirty. You're not tainted. You're fucking beautiful. And I would love nothing more than to lie you down and make slow gentle love to you right here and now just to erase everything else and make like it never happened. So that it's ME you'll  
remember feeling inside of you and not him. He was nothing. Just weak man and a coward. He got what he deserved. And he doesn't deserve a second thought."

His words only half-registered in her woozy head but even still, they made her warm all over, magically dispelling the chill she couldn't seem to shake from her body. She closed her eyes to avoid the tender desire emanating from his but then a scandalous  
image of the two of them entwined naked vividly appeared in her mind. Her eyes shot back open and the image shattered.

"That's quite gallant of you, but even I wouldn't touch myself right now with a ten foot pole."

The small smile he was able to elicit from her was more than enough for him. He returned it with one of his own and stood up. "So then how 'bout that bath?"

Her smile widened. "Please."

"Okay. Stay here and I'll go get things ready."

She lay back down in bed once he had left and closed her eyes. She didn't remember the drive back or even getting up the stairs to the bedroom. She must have been unconscious the whole time. She had a fierce headache, still felt dizzy and the light from  
the hallway hurt her eyes. All common signs of a concussion, not surprising given the beating she had sustained.

He came back to the room and helped her onto her feet. She swayed dangerously and he tightened his grip around her waist as he led her to the bathroom.

"Ok you were right about the shower," Fiona admitted, holding onto him for dear life. "And I think I'm about to puke."

"That would make your fourth time then," he quipped, rushing her down the hall to the toilet.

She fell to her knees and dry heaved a few times but nothing came up. "I can still taste him," she spat, resting her forehead against her arms and closing her eyes.

It took Negan a minute to understand the meaning behind her words. "You mean?" He didn't finish the thought out loud and instead punched the door as all his previous rage came bubbling back to the surface. "That mother fucking son of a fucking bitch,"  
he muttered under his breath. He leaned against the doorframe and ran his trembling hands through his hair, causing it to stick up wildly in all directions. "I'm sorry, Fiona. I'm so sorry for everything."

Was that the first time he had called her by her actual name? She'd be lying if she said she didn't like the sound of it. She looked up at him. His face was drawn and expression pained. "Stop apologizing. None of this was your fault."

"I lost track of the time. I shouldn't have gotten back so late."

"He would have found a way to get at me somehow, if not tonight."

Negan digested those words and realized she was right. But it still didn't make him feel any less responsible for what had happened. "Cmon," he said gently hoisting her up. "Bath is getting cold."

He led her across the way into his own bathroom where the tub had been filled and clean towels and washcloths were stacked on the floor beside it. "Sorry I don't have any bubbles, scented soaps, a candle or any other shit like that."

Fiona couldn't help but smile at the thought (and at his cuteness). "Any soap is gonna feel like a luxury in a few minutes," she joked.

"I'd offer you a glass of wine, but don't think that's a good idea given the fact you can't even stand up straight. Speaking of which, I'll give you some privacy but I'll be sitting right outside the door so if you can't get out or don't feel right, you  
better holler. Got it?"

She mock saluted him.

"I'm serious. If you fall again I'm not gonna pick you up."

She saluted him again.

He bit his lip to keep from smiling. "Do you think I'm joking? You can crack your head on the tile floor or drown in the tub."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "That would be an improvement from what I went through earlier tonight,no?"

Shaking his head in defeat, he left the room leaving the door open just a crack, reminding her he was just outside.

Once she was alone, Fiona braved a look in the mirror for the first time. She gasped when she didn't recognize the reflection staring back at her . Superficial abrasions trailed from the right side of her forehead and temple down to her jaw. Her right  
eye was swollen shut and her lower lip was twice its size with a bloody gash down the middle. Dried blood was caked in numerous places on her face and in her hair, most of which didn't belong to her. She pulled off her Tshirt and bra and saw the large  
bruise on her lower ribs where she had been kicked. She stretched her arms over her head and twisted at her waist a few times in a quick test. No, her ribs weren't broken, thank God. Lastly, she tugged off her jeans and threw what was left of the  
ripped, bloodstained underwear in the garbage. She felt a dull ache between her legs but it was bearable.

She slowly eased her bruised body into the tub and rested her head back against the lip, closing her eyes. She was way too comfortable and didn't want to fall asleep there which would end in either her drowning like Negan had joked about or him removing  
her naked form and bringing her back to bed. Neither were very attractive options so, figuring the bed was the best place to relax once she was clean, she got right down to work, washing away every trace, scent and memory of Zander from her  
body.

As for removing him from her mind, well, that would probably take a while longer...


	12. Chapter 12

Negan was sitting on the couch reading his book while waiting for Fiona. He had made sure she had gotten out of the bath safely and back to her bedroom to get dressed before coming downstairs. He was on his second glass of whiskey and it wasn't doing  
much to quell the storm of emotions fighting within him.

When he had returned back to The Sanctuary with her, he had been so conflicted as to whether to bring her straight to the infirmary and have Carla look her over or just take her home and into bed. She had been in and out of consciousness, sometimes coherent,  
other times not, but it had been the vomiting that concerned him more. As for other possible internal injuries, he doubted there were any. Not that he was a doctor, but he had skimmed her body briefly after lying her down across the front seat  
of his truck, and other than the bruise by her lower ribs, the rest of her injuries had been to her face and head. He must have thanked God a hundred times over tonight that Zander had just begun raping her right before he showed up. And he certainly  
hadn't finished so the odds of her getting pregnant were pretty damn low. Disease was more concerning than pregnancy at this point, and he hoped Zander had been clean. He made a mental note to ask Fiona if any of the antibiotics in the infirmary could  
be used as prophylaxis for STDs.

So he had carried her upstairs and decided against bringing Carla into things, promising himself if she worsened through the night he then would run and get help. Besides, Carla had been close with Lorraine, Zander's late wife, and he wasn't prepared  
to discuss Zander's fate with her or anyone else just yet.

Zander's fate.

He took another swig of whiskey at the morbid thought.

He had killed one of his own people tonight.

For beating and raping someone from the 'enemy camp'.

The community wouldn't find out until morning, but he could only imagine how they were going to react at the side he had chosen. It wasn't going to be pretty.

He returned his attention to the book but realized he had been trying to read the same paragraph for the past fifteen minutes. He couldn't concentrate so he might as well stop trying. He took off his glasses and rubbed his weary bloodshot eyes. Then he  
took another long swig of his drink. It burned going down and felt fucking good. He even had a small buzz forming and almost forgot what it felt like because he hadn't let himself get drunk in a really long time. Alcohol affected his judgement and  
dulled his reaction time, and someone in his position of power needed to be on alert 24/7. But tonight he was making an exception. He just couldn't rid his mind of the image of Zander raping Fiona, let alone one of her blowing him most likely with  
a cocked gun pressed to her head. At first he was grateful that he hadn't witnessed it, but now his overactive imagination was unfortunately more than making up for it.

He drained his glass then refilled it a third time, promising himself it would be the last one.

Just as he sat down again, he heard Fiona on the stairs. She paused in the doorway of the living room and leaned against the wall, making no motion to come inside. She was wearing his flannel shirt again and her hair hung in loose wet waves over her shoulders.  
Her face was rid of all the blood and her eye seemed to be slightly less swollen. He motioned to the seat beside him on the couch. "Join me for a bit?"

"I actually just came down to say thank you and goodnight. I'm exhausted."

"But I made you some tea. It'll settle your stomach."

Fiona looked at the mug of tea steaming on the coffee table and then at his tumbler of  
whiskey. "I'll stay only if I can have some of what you're having."

He couldn't help but smirk at her demand. "You don't strike me as the hard liquor type, gorgeous."

"I'm not. But I think tonight calls for it, don't you?"

"You're a lightweight and haven't eaten anything. It'll knock you out."

"That's the point. I'd like a perfectly boring dreamless sleep. C'mon. We can toast to brain bashing with baseball bats."

His eyes narrowed and he watched her for the longest time without saying anything. She began to get antsy under his scrutinizing gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He stood up, and carrying his drink in his hand, walked over to her. "Because you're acting way too nonchalant about this whole fucking thing."

"Excuse me?" He was a little too close for comfort and was looming again. She took a step away from him and into the room because he was so intimidating when he loomed. Not to mention he did it so damn well.

"Either you're pretending to be in denial or trying to play tough girl. You may be fooling yourself but neither are going to fool me. So why don't you just sit down and let's talk about it for a second?"

"Talk about WHAT!?" Fiona spun on her heels and advanced on him angrily. "How he made me blow him with a gun to my head!? How I'll never be able to stomach the thought or feel of a dick in my mouth ever again?! How he kicked me in the ribs,  
punched me numerous times in the face and then tore my underwear and fucked me bone dry!? Want to hear how that fucking hurt more than the all beatings combined! Or how he kept threatening to kill me when he was finished!?" She paused briefly and  
saw the color had drained from Negan's face as if he couldn't bear to hear the truth aloud. "I got raped! So what!? It doesn't matter! We are in a zombie apocalypse! There are worse things that could have happened! And we are all going to die anyway  
so nothing actually fucking matters, does it?"

"Jesus, you sound like me." Under any other circumstances he would have smiled at the sound of all those expletives coming out of her little mouth but now the jaded pessimism in her words broke his heart.

"Well, you told me the first night you brought me here that I was a fool for still loving people. And you know what? You're right! Everything we are doing, everything we THINK we are trying to build is for nothing! The world is shit and we're going to  
shit with it!"

"Fiona, don't."

"What!? You're allowed to say it but I'm not?"

"Yes! You have a passion for life, for medicine, even for love! Or you did when I first met you. And fuck, if I haven't been drawn to it ever since." He ran a hand wearily over his face and took another long swig of his whiskey, shaking his head at his  
admission. " So please don't let what that fucker did to you take that away. Please."

"It's not just what HE did! It's everyone! Everything! This whole fucking system! This hierarchy we humans have created! It's should be us against the walkers! Not us against each other!"

"It's the only way to survive."

"It doesn't have to be! Why can't we all work together?"

"I don't know." He walked over to the cabinet, figuring she could use a stiff drink after all. He grabbed a clean tumbler and poured her a shot. Walking back around the couch he handed it to her with a wry smile. "Ask your little boyfriend why he had  
to kill twenty of my men in their sleep."

"It wasn't just us," she said defiantly. "What about all the killing YOU'VE done? And they way you're exploiting Hilltop?"

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "What's your alternative then?"

"I don't have one yet." She took the tumbler he offered her and downed it in one long swig. It burned like fire and she blanched, causing him to chuckle a told-you-so chuckle.

"Not so tough after all, eh tough girl?"

She shoved the tumbler back at him. "Pour me another."

"Fuck no."

"One more. Please?"

"Then we'll sit and talk?"

"Fine! We'll talk!" She threw up her hands in defeat and plopped down on the couch, tucking one leg underneath her. "What the hell else do you possibly want to talk about?"

Negan poured her another shot, smaller this time, and met her gaze from across the room. "What happened at Alexandria today. You seem to have forgotten about my little chat with your fearless leader and fuck friend. " He saw her eyes widen as she  
remembered.

"I did forget," she admitted quietly then thanked him when he handed her back the glass as he sat down beside her. "So where's the kinkiest place we fucked?"

He nearly spat out a mouthful of whiskey at her inquiry. "Beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

He looked at her like she had sprouted a third eyeball. "Ok, you seriously took too many blows to the head. I'm worried about you."

"I'm not joking. I'd like to know what lies you told Rick. Just so I'm aware of the damage control I have to do when I get back."

Negan downed the last of the whiskey and leaned over to set the glass on the table. He was watching her again, those dark eyes intense. "Who says you're goin' back?"

"You can't keep me here forever."

No, he couldn't, he realized glumly. A shadow crossed his face at the thought. "Rick and I agreed to 48 hours." He couldn't help but think he should have negotiated for a longer amount of time. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to her yet.

"Really?"

"Don't look so excited."

"I'm just surprised."

"At him or me?"

"Both. He's giving you guns?"

Negan gave a little victory nod. "He is."

She fell silent and digested that bit of information. "You must have really gotten under his skin."

He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, smiling at her cockily. "I told you I would."

"But you're not going to tell me what you told him?"

"Na, see if he's man enough to repeat it," he said with a wink.

"Knowing him, he won't talk about it."

"Then I guess you'll never know."

He smiled again causing Fiona to look away. She remembered him bragging about that smile that day in the infirmary but he was absolutely right. It really was lethal.

They fell silent but she could feel his eyes still on her, watching her, studying her. "All joking aside, are you sure you're ok?" he asked quietly.

"Everything hurts and I feel like I've been hit by a bus, but I'm fine. Really." She forced a small reassuring smile. Then she asked the question that had been on her mind since she saw him miraculously appear over Zander's shoulder in answer to  
her prayers. "How did you find me?"

"When I came back and saw you weren't here I checked the Infirmary. Carla told me about your run in with Lisa so I questioned her. Turns out she set Zander on you. He didn't know you were part of the group that killed our people and his wife in  
that warehouse. So hearing that, he went ballistic like she had hoped he would. And he was already holding a grudge from the day before anyway."

"I pissed her off. I shouldn't have."

"You? How? What did you say to her?"

"Nothing worth repeating."

"I can just ask her, you know."

"She's pissed at you, too."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, she can be a jealous bitch. Possessive as fuck so I'm sure she didn't take too well to you."

"Thanks for the warning. A heads up would have been nice." She paused a moment then asked, "Do you love her?"

"Fuck no!" he answered without a moment's hesitation. "And she knows it. From day one I always made it clear where I stand. But her twisted mind doesn't believe it." He looked at her with that questioning, intense gaze. "So come on, what did you  
say to her?"

Fiona rolled her eyes and could feel her face getting hot. "Forget it, please. This whole day has been a nightmare from the very beginning. I don't want to rehash any of it."

"Must have been something good. You're blushing."

"Those are bruises, smartass."

"Whatever you say, gorgeous," he winked at her with that cheeky dimpled grin that always made something inside her flutter against her better judgement. She looked away, still flustered, and focused her attention on her glass of alcohol instead. Anything  
was better than those accusing eyes. She downed the rest of the whiskey and could feel it rush straight to her head. "So who was Lucille?" she asked after taking a moment to compose herself.

It was if somebody flipped a switch and his playful, flirty demeanor had vanished. His eyebrows furrowed angrily and his gaze darkened. His reply was quick and terse.

"Don't go there."

"She saved my life. Don't I have the right to know?"

Hearing the verbal reminder of how she almost died, rankled him. Zander would definitely have gone on to kill her if he hadn't gotten there on time. And he didn't like thinking about how he had cut it so fucking close. He had been so damn cocky, arguing  
with Gregory at Hilltop over petty shit, and after tonight, he began to realize that none of it mattered. What mattered was the way he felt seeing Zander punch Fiona in the face while raping her- he felt a rage unlike any he had felt for the longest  
time. But what bothered him was that it wasn't just rage. He thought, at the time, he could almost feel his heart breaking which meant he still had a heart somewhere there inside of him after all.

But now he felt that heart stubbornly closing right up again due to her curious prying into a very delicate and personal subject.

"No. You don't. And don't ever ask me again."

With that curt verbal dismissal, Fiona felt like she had been stung. She stood up angrily, slamming her empty glass on the table. "Oh, so I'm expected to pour my heart out to you and then get nothing in return!? That's how it works around here?"

"That's right."

He wasn't even making eye contact with her now. He was just sitting there, one leg crossed over his knee and staring into his drink between swigs.

There was so much she wanted to say, to argue, to retaliate but then realized sadly it wasn't worth it. She was leaving in 48 hours anyway and tried convincing herself she didn't care.

"Fuck you, then," she said quietly.

She hurried out of the room and rushed up the stairs before he could see her cry.

When Negan heard the door to her bedroom slam, he cursed under his breath and stood up to go pour another drink. She had caught him off guard, and he had automatically shut down like he always did when someone tried asking about his past. As he watched  
the amber liquid fill the glass he could feel his eyes well up with tears.

Second time tonight he was crying. What the fuck was happening to him?

It was probably the alcohol, he figured, using it as a convenient scapegoat. He was drunk and exhausted and certainly wasn't thinking straight. So he definitely didn't need that fourth drink right now.

He angrily pitched his tumbler across the room and into the fireplace, letting out all his rage and frustration. It exploded against the back brick wall in a hundred shards of glass.

Then he shut off the light and retreated upstairs to sleep it off. 


	13. Chapter 13

Negan was drifting off to sleep when he heard the soft knock on his door. At first he ignored it, thinking he was dreaming so he rolled over and closed his eyes. But then the knock came again, a little louder this time. "Coming," he called and dragged  
himself up out of bed. He opened the door to see Fiona standing there, arms crossed over her chest protectively and his flannel shirt hanging loosely off her left shoulder. She had a look in her eyes he couldn't quite decipher.

"Are you okay?," he asked worriedly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He watched her gaze take in his bare chest then roam southwards. When it quickly shot up again guiltily, he realized he was wearing nothing but his boxers.

"I'm sorry I pried," she apologized quietly, chewing on her lower lip. "It was none of my business and I should have just dropped it."

"I'm sorry I was such a dick about it. You just caught me off guard, I guess."

Fiona nodded in understanding. "If you ever change your mind and feel like talking, well, please know I'll be ready to listen."

"I appreciate that. Thank you."

She looked like she wanted to say more but fell silent. He thought he could see her hands trembling as she pulled the shirt back up to cover her shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, taking a step closer to her.

"Honestly?" She looked up at him, shook her head and her voice cracked as she spoke. "I'm lying there in bed and I can't stop thinking about him and replaying it over and over in my mind." She closed the gap between them and reached out a hand, placing  
it flat against his chest. "You said you could make me forget him and everything that happened... So can you? Make me feel good, Negan...Please...I want you to make me feel good again."

He must have been holding his breath because once she touched him and said his name, he heard it expel in one big whoosh. All haziness from the alcohol and sleep quickly vanished and he was suddenly very awake and very aware of what she was asking him.

And fuck, if he wasn't dreaming because he could feel his heart racing wildly beneath the touch of her small hand.

He stared at her, still somewhat in shock, trying to determine if she was tipsy and this was just the alcohol talking because he would never take advantage in a situation like that. But she was staring up at him, those blue eyes pleading yet crystal clear,  
reflecting nothing but determination and desire.

She wasn't drunk.

This was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

And what she wanted was him.

Fiona misconstrued his blank stare, slackened jaw and silence as his way of figuring how to let her down easy. She flushed in shame and stepped back, "I'm sorry... I... That was out of line... I think I'm a little drunk and-"

She didn't finish because Negan grabbed her hand and pulled her back into him, his arms snaking around her waist firmly yet gently, taking care not to crush her bruised ribs. "Gorgeous, don't you dare fucking apologize." He brushed a strand of hair  
off her face and tucked it behind her ear. Cupping her cheek, he lifted her head so she was forced to look at him again. "You don't have to ask me twice. You already are well aware of what you do to me, anyway."

To prove his point he pressed against her and Fiona felt a flutter of anticipation in her lower belly. It amazed her she was able to feel so much desire instead of repulsion after what she had gone through mere hours earlier. She wrapped her arms around  
him and pulled him even closer, wanting to feel more of him, all of him.

"And we both know you're not drunk," he murmured playfully.

She caught a brief glimpse of that dimpled grin before he lowered his mouth to cover hers, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. It was slow and sensual and as cliched as it sounded, a kiss that made her knees so weak she could barely stand. She clung to  
him but he had such a possessive grip on her which told her he wasn't planning on letting go any time soon. Her hand caressed his stubbled cheek and she opened her mouth, desperately wanting him to deepen the kiss.

He didn't disappoint.

His tongue met hers, strong and still tasting of whiskey. He probed deep and then retreated, but Fiona captured her lips around it on the way out. "Jesus Christ gorgeous, you're fucking killing me", he groaned against her mouth, picking her up into his  
arms. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed him again, first his top lip, then his lower, until she found his tongue again.

Without tearing his mouth from hers and their tongues still entwined, he carried her over to the bed and lay her down in the center, then covered her body with his, doing his best to keep most of his weight off of her. One hand continued to caress her  
face while the other made a slow exploration down the side of her chest and belly. He slid his hand under her shirt, finding the smooth bare skin of her thigh and moved it back up over her flat stomach.

His lips left hers and trailed soft kisses across her jaw, down to the hollow of her neck. He began undoing the buttons on her shirt, starting at the top, slowly, and when he got to the last one, his eyes still holding fast to hers, he let the shirt fall  
open to reveal her breasts. Those perfectly rounded, petite mounds. He admired them for the longest time until he heard Fiona laugh under her breath.

"They're just breasts," she said self-consciously. "Actually I'm not even sure you can call them that."

His hands cupped them, thumbs skimming her nipples, causing jolts of desire straight down to her core. "Don't sell yourself short, gorgeous. They are two perfect mouthfuls," he murmured, swirling his tongue around one rosy erect tip before taking it into  
his mouth and sucking gently. Fiona arched her back, moaning softly. She had heard stories about women orgasming from just nipple stimulation alone and hell if she wasn't getting close already. He was way too good at what he was doing and she could  
only imagine what mind blowing things were still to come.

He moved to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention before trailing his lips downward, over her stomach, causing another flutter of anticipation. Her pelvis was throbbing now, dying for his touch.

Seeing the large bruise over her lower right ribs, he caressed it softly, then kissed it as well, before his lips continued their exploration south. When he got to her navel he paused with his hands on the edge of her underwear and looked back up at her  
for the okay to proceed since only a few hours earlier, a man had been tearing at them roughly with the sole intent to hurt her.

But her face was flushed with desire and she was panting heavily. She lifted her head and frowned at him. "Oh god why are you stopping?" she breathed.

He couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Just checking if you were okay, gorgeous."

"I'm more than okay."

Sliding down her panties, he spread her legs and traced his fingers across the deep fingerprint bruises on both her inner thighs. He silently cursed Zander again but then his anger quickly dissipated when he felt how ready she was for him. "You  
most certainly are", he murmured appreciatively, stifling back a groan of his own when his hand slid across her slick center. He lowered his mouth to taste her and she lifted her hips eagerly to meet him.

A loud crash and the sound of glass breaking tore Fiona out of sleep and she sat up in bed in a panic, looking around. She was sweating and there was an unmistakable dull ache between her legs. Negan wasn't lying there beside her and she was still fully  
clothed. It had only been a dream, she realized, half in relief, half in...disappointment? Sliding her hand down, she couldn't believe how soaked her panties were, and all it took was one slight touch and she orgasmed fast and hard.

She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out while her body trembled in release.

If he was able to get her to come like that in a dream, she didn't want to think about how good the real thing would be. Especially when she wasn't supposed to be having any of these scandalous thoughts about him at all in the first place, let alone X  
rated dreams. Once again, she dismissed it as a consequence of her head injury as well as the shots of whiskey and absolutely nothing more.

She was going home in 2 days.

She kept repeating that fact over and over until she eventually fell back to sleep. 


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, Fiona woke with a killer headache. It was worse than the one she had the night before so she attributed it to a hangover rather than the concussion. It had been months since she last had a drink, and certainly not one of the whiskey  
caliber. She cursed her stupidity but then realized she had slept without nightmares so maybe the hangover was worth it, after all.

No nightmares, but disturbingly real sexual dreams instead, the smug voice inside her head reminded her mercilessly.

Well who in their right mind wouldn't prefer the latter? she countered back sourly. As much as she was loathe to admit it, the dream had been incredibly real, and well, incredibly satisfying.

But nobody ever had to know that especially the man who starred in it.

She cursed under her breath when she saw there was no Ibuprofen in the bathroom's medicine cabinet. She would would just have to OD when she got to the Infirmary.

Grabbing her key from the dresser, she made her way downstairs, hoping Negan was already gone for the day. After last night's showdown, she wasn't in the mood to face him just yet. A part of her felt bad about prying into an obviously sensitive subject,  
but another part of her was still hurt by his hypocrisy and the way he had shut down and shut her out so crudely. And of course after that crazy dream, she didnt know how she was going to look him in the eye ever again. Not only was she afraid that  
he would see right through her like he always did, but also terrified about how her body would subconsciously react to his presence.

When she reached the front door and turned the lock to open it, he was on her in an instant, barring her exit.

He had been in the kitchen, drinking his second cup of coffee and nursing one hell of a hangover when he heard her on the stairs. He was expecting her to join him for breakfast so when he heard her at the door he raced to stop her. "Where are you going?"

"To see my patient." Fiona tried to push past him but he was too solid a muscular wall to budge. "Get out of my way."

"What? Did your manners disappear overnight?" When she didn't respond he said in a more serious tone, "You're not going out there. Nobody knows about Zander and what he did to you. I'm going to talk to them in a few minutes. Until the community  
meeting is over, you have to lay low."

"If they are all at the meeting, I can be in the Infirmary. Someone needs to watch over Bryson." She shoved at him again but he held her back.

"Carla has it covered. I was already there this morning and talked to her in private. She knows. She also said you should... Uh... Maybe take some antibiotics to cover for any...STDs..."

Fiona rolled her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock."

"Look, you're obviously pissed at me and that's fine. I get it. But -"

She cut him off sharply. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not pissed. I honestly don't CARE. I just want to get the hell out of here and go home in two days. But until then, I need to take care of Bryson.

Her admission of not caring and her desire to return home hit him harder than he expected. And it made him angry, causing him to revert to the badass he was known for being. Backing her against the wall he towered over her and spoke in a hard voice.  
"I'm gonna say it one more time so you better fucking listen. I cant have you walking around out there without my fucking protection. Not until I feel them out and do some fucking damage control. It's not safe. So you'll stay here till I get back  
if you know what's good for you. And that's a fucking order. Got it?"

Fiona pushed his arms away which had boxed her in and stormed away from him, retreating into the living room. She grabbed his book from the table and plopped down on the couch like a petulant child. "Loud and clear," she muttered sourly.

Negan was well aware that during this whole interaction, she hadn't made eye contact with him once. He knew she was not only angry but also hurt, just from her reaction last night, but he had been hoping come morning things would be forgotten and they  
would be able to move on.

He followed her into the living room and sat on the edge of the coffee table across from her. "Can you look at me, please?"

Fiona sighed impatiently and finally lifted her gaze to his face, avoiding his mouth. That mouth that had kissed her so tenderly yet thoroughly, not only on her lips but especially in the one place she had thought she'd never want to be touched again.  
His eyes were bloodshot and ringed in dark circles, his skin was pale with a green tinge to it and he had the worst case of bedhead she had ever seen (yet somehow it still managed to look incredibly sexy on him). He was definitely hungover. She wondered  
how much he had actually drank last night, because for a man his size to get drunk, it had to be a pretty decent amount.

"You look like shit," she commented dryly.

"I feel like shit."

"Now who's the one who can't hold their alcohol?"

"It's been a long time. Gotta rebuild a tolerance." He motioned with his head to the kitchen. "Were you actually going to leave without coffee?"

"Screw the coffee. I need Ibuprofen."

"So you're hungover too, then."

"No," she answered defiantly. "I have a concussion."

"Riiiight." He smirked knowingly and she looked away again. "I have some in my medicine chest. I'll run up and get it if you promise not to make a run for it."

She rolled her eyes again and didn't bother replying. Instead she turned her attention to the book. Grapes of Wrath? She groaned inwardly and threw it aside, then went over to the bookshelf to find something more interesting.

"Don't you have a baseball cap or something so I can just cover my face and run over there without anyone seeing my bruises?" She asked when he returned with some pills and a glass of water.

"Relax, I said. "One hour won't make any difference. Bryson will survive. Hell, he's going to have to once you're outta here. Thought doctors weren't supposed to abandon their patients, yet five minutes ago you said you can't wait to leave..."

His words rankled her because he wasn't wrong. She hadn't even thought about what would happen to Bryson when she left. "I'm going to check back in on him periodically."

"Oh really? How so? You'll just mosey back on over here? Rick will allow that?"

He was mocking her again. She hated his know-it-all sarcasm. "He doesn't control me."

"We'll see about that."

She chose Catcher in the Rye and returned to the couch. "Don't you have a meeting?" she asked impatiently, eager to have him gone. He was getting under her skin this morning and she didn't know if it was because the dream continued to haunt her or if  
she was still offended by the way he dismissed her last night. Probably a combination of both. Either way, she just needed some quiet time alone to regroup and put everything past her before she said or did something she would probably regret.

Negan watched her for the longest time, but she continued to ignore him, all her attention focused on the book in her lap. He knew a simple apology would probably set things right but his pride wouldn't allow him to do it. At least not right now. He had  
more important things on his mind.

He went back to the kitchen to finish his coffee and saw his hands were trembling slightly as he picked up his coffee mug. He was more nervous than he thought about the meeting. Carla had tried to reassure him that he had done the right thing. He had  
acted in self defense because Zander would have certainly gone on to kill Fiona like he had threatened. He was a man who always made good on his word. Hearing that from Carla had made him feel better because honestly her reaction was the one he had  
been most worried about, given her closeness with Zander and Lorraine.

Fighting back a wave of nausea he dumped the rest of his coffee down the sink and poured Fiona a fresh mug. He added milk and sugar the way he knew she liked it and then dropped it off in the living room on his way out.

"I'll be back in an hour," he told her, heading for the door.

Fiona looked at the mug of hot coffee on the table, caramel colored from the milk he added and she knew when she tasted it, it would be sweet enough. Whether this was his peace offering, she couldn't say, but she was touched by the gesture all the same.

"Hey," she called out to him.

He paused at the door and turned back to look at her.

"Good luck. It'll be fine. If anyone can convince and sweet talk a crowd, its you."

He flashed her that trademark grin, dimples and all. "That so, gorgeous?"

She nodded and allowed a half smile in return. Then she lifted her mug and toasted the air in a combination thank you/good luck motion.

He felt his smile widen and just like that, his nausea disappeared and he suddenly felt like he could conquer the world.


	15. Chapter 15

Yay! Finally all caught up! Here's anew chapter! Thanks to those who are stillreading and following! And of course to those leaving reviews! 

* * *

Later that afternoon, Fiona was sitting alone with Bryson. He seemed more subdued than the past few days and she was afraid the wound was looking a bit sketchy. The skin around his stump was a bit red and he was running a low grade fever.  
She changed his antibiotics to something stronger and did a thorough irrigation and cleaning of the wound.

She tried to engage him in conversation but he wasn't in the mood. So she let him rest quietly and sat beside him reading her book.

Negan had returned to the house before lunch time. Fiona had been asleep on the couch and had woken to find him sitting on the chair watching her sleep. He didn't say much about how the meeting had gone. He just looked drawn and exhausted and still  
a bit hungover. He escorted her to the infirmary where Carla had been waiting with a cocktail of antibiotic pills for her to take. She had tenderly brushed Fiona's hair aside and studied her bruises. "I'm so sorry sweetie," she had whispered quietly  
and then left with Negan.

Bryson hadn't mentioned her attack, and she wondered if a part of him felt guilty because of his association with Stella. Speaking of which, she stopped by later that afternoon. Bryson was asleep.

"You must be Fiona," she said, extending a friendly hand.

Fiona shook it amiably. "And you must be Stella. Bryson talks about you constantly." She could see the resemblance to her sister but whereas Lisa had resting bitch face, Stella had bright eyes and an innocence to her pleasant smile.

Stella took a seat beside his stretcher and covered his hand with hers. "I don't even know how to begin to thank you for what you did for him. And my stupid sister goes and tries to get you killed." She lifted her green eyes which were filled with  
tears. "I'm so sorry. She... I don't know how to explain it... She's just changed so much since this whole apocalypse thing... I don't even recognize her anymore."

"It's changed all of us. Some for the better, some for the worse."

"Yes but we are all supposed to be on the same side. Us versus the zombies, not us against each other."

Fiona smiled faintly. "I told Negan the same thing last night."

At the mention of his name she rolled her eyes. "Lisa loves him...Fool that she is. That's what makes her even more irrational I think. She won't accept the fact that he can't love or won't love or just doesn't want to love HER."

Fiona didn't respond. The way he had shut down when she asked about his past was still too raw in her mind. Someone like that who didn't open up to people either had something to hide or had been hurt in unspeakable ways.

"Now I understand why she sees you as a threat", she added with a little laugh. "You're beautiful, sweet, and not to mention incredibly smart."

Fiona always felt uncomfortable when people payed her compliments. It wasa self-esteem issue she couldn't quite explain. She brushed off Stella's kind words with a wave of her hand. "Thanks, but she can relax because I'm leaving tomorrow."

"I know. I heard. What's going to happen to Bryson?"

"Haven't figured out the logistics yet, but I will be back to check on him often."

Stella looked confused. "How? You can't."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you hear? The Saviors voted they don't want you back here and Negan agreed."

"What!?" He hadn't told her that this morning when she had asked how things went.

"At the meeting. They were pretty pissed at him and want you out. I tried telling them you saved Bryson's life and are still monitoring him but they don't care. Zander was pretty popular around here. Especially with the tougher guys. Personally I  
couldn't stand him but my opinion doesn't mean a damn thing."

Fiona had fallen silent, digesting this new information. Why hadn't Negan told her? This was a pretty big deal. If his people threatened to hurt her if she ever came back to the Sanctuary, how would she be able to care for Bryson? Maybe he hadn't  
told her yet because he was figuring out a way to change their minds? Or a safer alternative?

Why was she even giving him the benefit of the doubt? she asked herself angrily.

"You okay?" Stella asked her.

"Yeah...Just thinking. So they were pretty angry, huh?"

"Yes. And for the first time Negan seemed... outnumbered and vulnerable. It was a little unnerving, to be honest, because he's always been so very much in control."

Fiona shook her head. "He should have let Zander kill me."

"Shut up!" Stella scolded her. "Negan is a good man. He has a strong sense of justice. He did the right thing."

This was the second person in a few days who referred to him as a good man. She didn't doubt it for she had seen glimpses of it during her short time with him. But he was also terrifying, withdrawn, chauvinistic and acerbic, knowing just how to get  
under her skin.

And into your dreams, that voice in her head loved reminding her.

"You see it too," Stella observed quietly.

"I've known him only a few days."

"He's charming. And so very good looking. Can't blame Lisa for falling for him but she should have enough pride to know when to back off."

Bryson opened one eye and playfully scowled at Stella. "I heard that."

She leaned over to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. "You were probably listening the whole time weren't you?"

"Maybe...so is he better looking than me?"

"Are you really going to make me answer that?"

"Yes."

"Ok fine. You are the sexiest, most handsome man in this apocalypse."

He smiled from ear to ear and leaned over for another kiss. "That's better."

Fiona watched their adorable interaction and actually found herself thinking of Rick. He hadn't crossed her mind much since Negan had taken her hostage but now that she was on the verge of going home, she realized she missed him.

Bryson looked at her worriedly. "You WILL be back right?"

"I have to. We will figure something out, I promise."

She gave them some privacy and went to tidy things up on the opposite end of the room, her mind and heart heavy with the ramifications of Zander's murder. In hindsight, maybe Negan should have told them it was she who killed him in self-defense. Then  
he wouldn't be in such hot water right now. She probably would have been just as much of a target but at least nobody would be pointing fingers at him.

Carla came back to relieve her later that evening. Fiona filled her in on Bryson's mild infection and gave her instructions for the overnight. She had debated asking Carla for more information regarding that morning's meeting but then decided against  
it.

The only person she needed to hear the truth from was Negan now.

Carla called out to her when she got to the door. "You okay, sweetie?"

Fiona nodded wearily. "Just tired. And still a bit sore."

Carla gave her a small sympathetic smile. "Go rest. You need it. And let Negan take care of you."

Images of her dream popped into her head. And the way Negan had more than taken care of her in it. She said a quick goodnight then turned away and walked out before Carla could see her blushing.

Negan was sitting on the steps when she got outside. Had he been there all day?

"So now you're my personal bodyguard?" she quipped sarcastically.

He turned around at the sound of her voice. He still looked exhausted and drained but at least his color had returned and his hangover appeared to be gone. A part of her wanted to feel sorry for him and did, but only for a brief moment. Then she remembered  
why she was so upset with him.

"We'll talk when we get back to the house," he said quietly.

"Nothing to talk about," she shot back. "Stella brought me up to speed, thanks." She stepped by him angrily and started walking quickly home.

He hurried to catch up with her. They walked in silence and she knew better than to make a scene while they were out in the open but once inside, she turned on him, lashing out.

"Why didn't you tell me I can't come back here to take care of Bryson!?"

Negan leaned against the closed door and ran a hand through his hair. "Because I was trying to figure things out... Trying to find a loophole around it-or some alternative."

So her initial conclusion had been correct. "Did you come up with any?"

"No."

"They don't care about Bryson's health?"

"No."

"Why not? He's one of your own!"

Negan closed his eyes and answered wearily. "It's a matter of principle."

"Stop giving me clipped answers and elaborate!"

He had finally reached his breaking point. She kept pushing and pushing and now he needed to push back. His eyes shot open and he advanced on her as he began yelling. "You want elaboration? Well here it is, gorgeous, so listen the fuck up! They don't  
care that you fucking saved Bryson's life or that you need to be around to monitor him! All they know is that I killed one of our own people to save YOUR fucking life, and to them, you are the fucking enemy whose people killed a hell of alot of  
our people! To them, you deserved everything Zander gave you! They WILL kill you! They wanted to this morning which is why I've been sitting out there all day on the fucking steps acting as yes, your fucking personal bodyguard! So don't cop an  
attitude with me because all I'm doing is trying to fucking protect you! I know did a shitty job of it last night but I swear it's not going to fucking happen again!"

Fiona gaped at him, humbled. He had backed her against the wall in the living room and was scowling down at her, hands fisted angrily at his sides. His eyes were blazing and his breathing ragged.

All this emotion.

Over her?

Even in his wild, ranting state, he looked so attractive. And the fact he felt so passionate about protecting her? Well, that added another whole level to his attractiveness. Suddenly those earlier thoughts of Rick were fleeting and she wasn't quite  
sure what possessed her to stand on her tiptoes and take his face in her hands, pulling him down to her level to kiss him.

And kiss him she did.

Slowly, intensely, thoroughly.

Until the shock factor wore off and he finally took over her lead, taking control of the kiss.

And God help her it was just as good as in her dream, making her knees so weak she clung to him as if she was drowning. His hands slid around her waist and he pulled her against him, deepening the kiss to taste more of her. Her tongue teased his and  
when she caught his lower lip between her teeth, sucking gently, he groaned. He was hard as a rock and it took every ounce of self control to tear his mouth away.

Resting his forehead against hers he closed his eyes for a moment to catch his breath and regroup. When he reopened them, he looked down at her and grinned. "Fuck, gorgeous, I needed that."

Fiona couldn't help but smile back. His eyes were warm and he was gazing at her so tenderly that she found it a little harder to breathe. "I could tell."

"What was it for?"

She shrugged shyly and slipped out of his embrace, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. If he was enjoying it so much why had he stopped? "Just a thank you... For everything."

"You're very welcome."

He was still grinning, all dimples now, and Fiona had to look away.

"I'm.. Uh... going to get something to eat." She headed for the kitchen but he grabbed her hand to stop her. She reluctantly turned back to look at him, her heart pounding in her chest, because this was the part in her dream where he not only told  
her but demonstrated how badly he wanted her. And she vividly remembered how things progressed from there.

His gaze was still warm and filled with desire and she wanted nothing more than to run right back into those arms. "Don't think I stopped because I wanted to," he said quietly, that voice sending shivers down her spine. "I stopped because after last  
night, you need some time to heal-physically, that is. Emotionally, I think you're more than okay," he added with a playful wink.

Fiona's heart skipped a few beats and she felt a flutter deep in her belly at the implication behind his words. Biting her lip she nodded in understanding and escaped into the kitchen.

Thankfully he didn't follow.

She needed to be alone with her thoughts and emotions for awhile and figure out what the heck was happening to her.

And why she not only cheated on Rick with a man who had become his new archenemy but was falling for said man...

Sadly she began to realize that her going home tomorrow was not a cause for celebration after all.

It was going to be a lot more complicated than she had ever imagined. 


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer- I don't read the comics so I took liberties with Negan's backstory, character and the history behind Lucille. Reminder- this is just a work of fiction (andmy convoluted imagination) :-)  
Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers! 

* * *

Negan gave Fiona space for the rest of the evening.

He knew she wanted some time alone and respected that, but was also afraid that by being near her, he wouldn't be able to control himself and would take her right back into his arms where he wanted her so badly. He stopped by her room on his way to bed  
and knocked, waiting for the okay to enter. She was sitting up in bed reading, wearing his flannel shirt again. It hit him hard that after tonight, she wouldn't be around anymore. He had gotten quite used to her presence.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Hey. Just wanted to let you know we will be leaving here early tomorrow."

"Ok. Will I be able to check on Bryson before we go?"

Negan nodded. "Of course."

Fiona smiled shyly. "Thanks."

"Well...Goodnight then."

"Night."

He hesitated for the briefest of seconds, either wanting to say more or hoping she would say something herself or ask him to stay, if only for the company and nothing more. But she returned her attention to her book and he took that as a sign to leave.

He shut the door and walked out.

Retreating into his room, he collapsed onto the bed and closed his eyes. He couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. He kept replaying it over and over in his mind-how she had initiated it, how she had wanted him, and how she was so damn sexy when she  
played the aggressor.  
His body responded in its usual way and he groaned inwardly knowing she was just next door yet he couldn't touch her.

It was all his fault, though.

He was the one who had stopped.

Out of respect for her as well as concern for her health.

When the fuck did he start caring about shit like that?

When the fuck did he start letting hisheart call the shots?

What was it about this woman that had turned his whole world upside down in a matter of days?

He had tons of questions but no answers.

Just an aching cock.

Nothing a cold shower couldn't cure,unfortunately.

Sighing, he got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He blasted the cold water and stripped off his clothes. Stepping inside, he shut the door behind him and gasped at the shock to his skin. However it didn't have quite the effect he had been hoping  
for because he was only reminded of how Fiona had looked that day in the shower and also how he told Rick he hadn't fucked her there yet. He let his mind wander to what it would be like, having her there beside him, water glistening off her slick  
naked skin as his hands explored every luscious inch of her body. The image of him holding her up in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist as he brought them both to climax was so vividly intense that he vowed then and there he was somehow,  
someday going to make it a reality.

The ride back to Alexandria was a quiet one.

If someone told Fiona a few days ago that she would have mixed feelings about leaving her kidnapper's company she would have laughed in their face. And if someone told Negan that he would be feeling the absence of a certain woman deep in his heart instead  
of just below his belt he would have told them to go fuck themselves.

But the bottom line was that both weren't quite ready to say goodbye. Yet there was nothing they could really do about it, was there?

Fiona kept telling herself that as long as Bryson continued to need her, then in a convoluted way Negan would need her too. And she had faith he would figure out a way to get her back there somehow.

They had stopped into the infirmary to see Bryson briefly that morning before heading out. His arm looked the same. No worse, but not much better either. She had been hoping the antibiotics would produce a much quicker response. She left some instructions  
for Carla and then gave Bryson a hug, promising to return as soon as possible. It was an emotional goodbye and she did her best not let him see just how worried she really was about him. Negan, meanwhile, had stood by the door, arms crossed over his  
chest, while he watched the whole emotional exchange as stoicly as possible. He was still wracking his brain for a solution but kept coming up empty.

He looked over at her now. She was starting out the window, deep in thought. Her eye was somewhat better but her bruises had turned a deep purple and her lip was still swollen. He realized suddenly his kisses last night probably didn't help. But  
she hadn't seemed to mind, he reminded himself biting back a smile at the memory.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Just worried about Bryson."

"It doesn't look good, does it?"

"Could be worse. But could also be a lot better."

"I'll find a way to get you back there. I promise."

The sound of his voice promising her something unsettled her. Just as thoughts of the kiss they had shared the night before did. She hadn't slept well after that. Maybe it was knowing he was in the next room and so readily available if she wanted or needed  
him. Even though he had done the noble thing by stopping before they went too far, she knew it wouldn't have taken much convincing on her part to change his mind, reassuring him she was physically okay and more than capable of handling him. At one  
point, not long after he said goodnight, she heard the shower running in his bathroom and had the strongest urge to join him. Thankfully she talked herself out of it before she reached her door.

She could feel herself getting worked up again over thoughts of leaving not only Bryson but also Negan as well, and her voice cracked as she said. "It has to be soon. Please."

They fell into another bout of silence until Negan reached the turnoff for Alexandria. He pulled over to the side of the road and idled the engine. Fiona looked over at him questioningly. He was staring straight ahead clutching the steering wheel  
tightly. A small muscle in his jaw was twitching as he tried to muster up the courage to say what he wanted to.

When he finally spoke it was barely audible. "My daughter Sarah... She got this teddy bear...for her second birthday..." He swallowed thickly and forced himself to continue. "She named her Lucille...took her everywhere... Her own little security  
blanket... She never outgrew it... And we... we..." He cursed under his breath and rested his forehead against the steering wheel, closing his eyes.

Fiona didn't know what to do. She was rendered speechless by his sudden confession. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder but didn't say anything. She figured he would continue when he was ready. Even if he said nothing else, what he just  
revealed to her was huge in itself.

"We buried Lucille with Sarah when she lost her fight with leukemia at 7 years old."

Fiona's heart froze at the revelation and his pain became hers. They had both lost children. Only difference his loss was before the apocalypse and hers was during. Neither made the loss any easier though.

Negan lifted his head and regarded her with a weary gaze. He wasn't surprised to see the tears in her eyes but her compassion touched him all the same, even though he hadn't asked for it. "I don't expect you to say anything... I just...wanted you  
to know...That's all."

Before Fionacould regroup or respond he ran a hand down his face and pulled the car back onto the road.

So Lucille had become his own sort of security blanket. A weapon in this time of danger. Something he always carried with him. And he named it in memory of his daughter. As convoluted as it was, it made sense somehow.  
All she wanted to do was take him into her arms and hold him, comfort him, ease some of the burden of his pain by sharing her own story of loss. But they were already at the gates and Abraham was staring down at them from his post.

This was it, Fiona realized sadly. This was goodbye.

"Stay here," Negan ordered her.

He got out of the car and strolled over to the gate. Looking up, he saluted Abraham where he stood on guard. "Morning soldier. How's it hangin'?"

"Fuck you," Abraham spat back in his usual response.

Negan motioned to Fiona. "That's what this lovely lady in the car was for. Thanks for letting me borrow her. We sure had fun. Or at least I did."

Abraham trained his gun on Negan. "I should blow your brains out right now, asshole. Who's to stop me? I see you didn't bring your posse with you today."

Negan shoved his hands into his pockets, threw his head back and chucked. "You're not gonna kill me, soldier. You'd start a fucking war. Just go get Rick and stop fucking around. I don't have all day."

Abraham stared him down for the longest time, weighing his options, before he finally lowered his gun and spoke into his walkie talkie. In less than five minutes, the gates opened and Rick was standing there with Glen and Daryl. A crate of weapons lay  
at his feet.

Negan greeted them with a victorious smile. "Morning, gang."

Ricks eyes immediately flew to the truck and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Fiona sitting inside. "Bring her to me," Rick ordered. "Then take your guns and get the fuck outta here."

Negan strolled back over to the truck and went around to the passenger side. He opened the door and Fiona waited for him to give her the okay. "We're good," he said quietly. "He's got my guns." He brushed her long bangs away from her face and swallowed  
the lump in his throat. Then he made his second confession of the morning which was totally out of character for him. "Suddenly those weapons don't seem important after all, though. If I could, I'd keep you instead."

Fiona closed her eyes and let his gentle touch and words wash over her. "I know I've thanked you a hundred times, but I'm truly grateful for everything."

"It was my pleasure, gorgeous."

She took in that voice for the last time, savoring the way her insides turned to mush when it called her gorgeous. She wanted to kiss him but couldn't. Not with their audience standing twenty feet away. She let him take her hand and help her down  
from the truck. She kept her eyes averted as she followed him back to the gate, not ready to face Rick just yet.

Yet Rick ran right over to her and captured her in a fierce hug. "I'm so sorry," he apologized against her ear. "I'm so, so sorry." She winced at the pressure on her bruised ribs and he pulled away questioningly. When he got a good look at her face  
and mouth, his eyes darkened and without warning he released her and landed a hard right hook across Negan's jaw. "Sonofabitch!" he yelled.

Fiona was so shocked by Rick's reaction it took her a minute to realize that he was assuming Negan had been the one to give her those bruises. Negan himself was momentarily dazed, not expecting the attack, and just as Rick was about to throw another punch,  
Fiona screamed.

"No! Rick, stop it!" She stepped between the two men, pushing Rick away.

Rick looked at her with crazy eyes, unable to comprehend why she was defending her kidnapper and attacker. His mouth moved but no sound came out. His gazed scaled over her bruises and he gently ran his thumb across her split lip.

"It wasn't him," Fiona said desperately. "He didn't do this."

Rick turned back to Negan angrily. "So you let your men have their fun with her too, then? Was it a fucking gangbang free for all!?"

Negan was humbled by Ricks accusation and the reminder of how he hadn't protected Fiona they way he should have. "I took care of the guy who did this," he said quietly. "That's all you need to know."

"Get your fucking guns and get the hell out of here. I don't want to see you or your men for a while. You got what you wanted." He took Fiona's hand and began leading her back through the gate.

As Negan watched them go, he thought to himself sadly, No, I didn't.

Fiona turned back to look at him when she passed through the gate. He gave her a half- hearted wave and forced a small smile, but those dimples never appeared. Fiona had hoped to see them one last time.

Negan watched her until she turned the corner out of sight. Then he turned his attention over to the weapons. The crate was too heavy to lift so he carried a few guns at a time over to his trunk.  
Nobody offered to help him.

Daryl appeared beside him near the truck. "What happened to her?" he growled.

"Use your fucking imagination and you won't be too far off."

Daryl cursed under his breath. "Who was it?"

"Does it fucking matter? It was the husband of the woman your people killed in that warehouse. He almost fucking killed her. But first he raped her and violated her." He saw Daryl's horrified expression and spat out angrily, "Thats what happens when you  
start a fucking war. There's gonna be consequences. People aren't gonna sit back and let you mow them down for no reason."

"Fiona wasn't in that warehouse. She had nothing to do with what happened there. "

"She's part of your group. There's no discriminating in times like this, you know that. So go back and tell Rick and maybe next time he'll think twice about who he's gonna attack and why."He got the last group of guns loaded into the truck and slammed  
the trunk.

Daryl followed him around to the drivers side and stood by the open window. Negan started the car and frowned at him when he wasn't making any motion to leave. "You want something, redneck?"

Daryl let the insult slide. "Is she okay?"

Negan narrowed his eyes and studied the younger man closely. He was truly pained by the news about Fiona and Negan wondered why. "You hot for her, too?"

Daryl sucked his teeth and scowled. "Fuck no. It ain't like that. She's like a sister to me."

"You sure about that?"

"IS SHE OKAY?"

"Would YOU be?" Negan countered sarcastically. When Daryl didn't answer, he said, "Didn't think so."

Then he pulled away with a screech of his tires leaving Daryl with a heart heavy with remorse.

Negan, as much of a dick as he was, had a point, he realized.

What the fuck were they doing starting a war? And when was it going to stop?

He needed to have a talk with Rick.

And hopefully put an end to any future impulsive mercenary attacks.

Before they put anymore of the people they loved in danger. 


	17. Chapter 17

Fiona's homecoming was a big deal and everyone met her at various points out in the street as she walked back home with Rick. They just hugged her, told her how glad they were to have her back safe, and then gave her space, no prying questions asked.  
Yet she wasn't oblivious to the way they eyed her bruises pitifully. All she wanted to do was lie down and be alone. But she knew Rick was going to bombard her with questions as soon as they got home.

She wasn't ready to talk. Not to him, or anyone else for that matter.

Everything was still too raw.

Carl was waiting with Judith on the porch and he gave her a big hug with the baby sandwiched between them. Fiona kissed both of them and took Judith from his arms. "Hey guys. I missed you."

"You okay?" Carl asked, scowling as he took measure of her bruises.

"I'm fine," she said, forcing her voice to stay light. "Gave them a run for their money." She winked at him but he continued to study her skeptically. There was no fooling him. He was so much like his father, she realized, and growing up way too fast.  
"Really, Carl. I'm okay. I promise." She ruffled his hair. "I'd feel a lot better if you let me cut this mop, though."

That finally brought a smile to his face. "Let me think about it."

She carried Judith inside and Michonne was in the kitchen making tea. She looked up when Fiona entered and hurried over to embrace her. "Thank God," she whispered. She took notice of her bruises but was tactful enough not to mention them. "Sit down. Have  
some tea." She poured a mug and placed it in on the table.

Fiona settled Judith in her highchair and sat down wearily.

Rick came in with Daryl close behind.

Daryl had pulled him aside and given him a heads up regarding what Negan had told him about Fiona. He figured it was better if Rick knew the gory details ahead of time so he could tread lightly with her. Not that he wouldn't but, well, everyone knew how  
intense Rick could get when he was passionate about something, and the last thing Fiona needed right now was to be given the third degree.

"How's the shoulder?" Fiona asked Daryl when nobody was making any attempts at conversation. She didn't want to be treated like she was about to fall apart. She had been attacked, beaten, raped and almost killed, and then came onto the man whom everyone  
in her community despised at the moment.

Yet she was still alive and kicking.

And she was finally home.

A little normalcy returned to her life wasn't a bad thing, she realized.

"Healing okay I guess. Denise was able to remove the bullet and I'm on some antibiotics. Sore as hell, though. And I hate this fucking sling. Pain in the ass. Can't shoot a crossbow wearing a fucking sling."

Fiona managed a small smile, wishing she had taken some of the Infirmary's IV antibiotics and supplies with her. "No shooting anyway until I give you the all clear. I'll take a look at the wound later if you don't mind."

Daryl nodded his consent. "Sure thing, Doc."

"So what's our inventory looking like right now?"

"Fucker took half of it," Daryl growled. "Just like he said he would."

"Ok, so we'll grow or get it back."

"Not the guns," Rick muttered.

"Forget the guns," Michonne reprimanded him.

Rick raised a disapproving eyebrow. "You'll be singing a different tune when one of our people gets killed by one of those guns."

"He's not going to kill any of us," Fiona interjected.

Rick looked at her in surprise. "Who?"

"Negan."

Michonne studied her for the longest time and Fiona found herself growing uncomfortable under her curious stare. "What makes you so sure?"

"I...just know." She looked away, afraid Michonne would be able to read the guilt in her eyes. Guilt over not only cheating on Rick but wanting so much more than what little happened between her and Negan. She wasn't even going to try to explain to them  
how he really was a decent human being beneath the rough exterior. Nobody would believe her anyway. They'd accuse her of being brainwashed or something worse.

"Fine. Then if not him, one of his goons will," Daryl conceded.

"They are supposed to do what he says," Fiona said. "If they don't follow his orders, there are consequences."

Now it was Rick who was studying her intently. He hadn't wanted to push her for information so soon but she didn't seem to mind talking about things, so why not keep the conversation going? "What's their compound like?"

"Army barracks, an infirmary and a colonel's house. Lots of land. Electric gate to enter and leave."

"What about from the back?"

"No idea."

"How many people about?"

"Not sure. Didn't see a lot of them while I was there."

No, because according to Negan, you spent most of your time in his bed.

The thought came to Rick unexpected and unbidden, and he flushed with not only shame but anger at the reminder. Whatever happened between them wasn't her fault. He needed to keep telling himself that in order to move on. He had absolutely no reason to  
be angry with her. But the fact she had not only stuck up for Negan earlier when he had punched him, but was also doing it again now struck a bit of a nerve if he was being completely honest.

"Could you get back there on your own?" Daryl asked.

"No. Sorry. I tried to watch for landmarks but going there that first night it was pitch black and this morning coming back, I was..." She was what? Distracted by her heavy thoughts? Thinking how much she was going to miss him? Floored by his confession  
about his daughter? All of the above yet none she could admit aloud. "I was blindfolded," she lied. "He obviously wants to keep their location a secret."

"Yet the assholes know damn well how and where to find us,'" Michonne muttered.

"They've known for awhile we existed," Rick said . "They were just biding their time."

"Waiting for us to do something stupid like attack them unprovoked." Fiona hadn't meant to say the words aloud but she couldn't help resent he fact that it was Rick's fault she got kidnapped, raped and almost killed.

"Whose side are you on?" Rick countered sarcastically.

"Hey," Michonne intervened. "This is not the time to be having this conversation or any conversation, actually. Fiona, you should go upstairs and rest."

Fiona nodded. She desperately wanted to be alone and if hiding out in a bedroom pretending to sleep was what it would take, then she was all for it. "You're right. I just want to put my head down for a bit." She stood up. "Thanks for the tea."

"Let me know if I can get you anything else."

"I'm good for now, thanks."

Rick followed her up and Fiona groaned inwardly, not sure how she could get rid of him in a nice way. He was worried about her, she understood that, and it wasn't his fault she was suddenly pining for another man. Circumstances had changed and she wasn't  
the same woman who had gotten kidnapped in that forest clearing.

A lot had happened In a span of less than a week.

Rick closed the door to the bedroom and took her hands in his, pulling her into him. He looked at her for the longest time, trying to get some clue as to what she was thinking or feeling. "Are we okay?" he asked quietly.

She forced a small smile. "Of course, Rick."

"You just seem distant is all."

"I'm still a bit on edge after everything that happened. I'll get over it, though."

"You know I'm here when you want to talk about it right?"

"Thank you. I appreciate that." She kissed him on the cheek and stepped out of his embrace. "For now, I just want to be alone."

"I can respect that." He watched her climb into bed and when she rolled over, turning her back to him, he took that as his cue to leave.

She would come around, he told himself as he shut the door quietly behind him. She was a fighter. It was just going to take some time. He just wasn't used to seeing that lack of life in her eyes and it saddened him. She used to have such a passion  
and spark not only for him but for life in general.

But now she seemed...broken.

What was broken could be repaired, though.

And he was going to do everything possible in his power to fix her.

After a tiring day of working in the fields and tending to the garden with Maggie, Fiona indulged in a long, hot shower. Manual labor was tough, and it was sad that a pregnant woman was showing her up and doing twice the work. Yet Maggie had lived on  
a farm all her life and this kind of work came naturally to her. Fiona was a high maintenancecity girlback in the pre-apocalypse days, and was slowly but surely getting used to this new lifestyle.

Working at least kept her mind occupied and served as a decent distraction, for the most part.

Things with her and Rick remained awkward and a bit strained. He had tried to touch her once or twice but she had shied away, still not ready for that kind of intimacy yet. He had also tried to engage her in conversation, to get her to open up to him  
in regards to what exactly happened during her time at the Sanctuary and how she was feeling, yet she didn't volunteer too much information, keeping things superficial and casual between them. At one point she wondered if it was fair to continue living  
there with him and his family, or if it would be better for both of them if she spent some time away for awhile.

Fiona shut off the water and pushed the shower curtain aside. She reached out for her towel and jumped when she saw Rick standing against the sink. He was holding the towel in his hands and eying her keenly. She cursed and reflexively covered herself  
which was silly because he had seen her naked plenty of times before this. "You scared me. What are you doing?"

"Im sorry. I just keep imagining the worst and needed to see for myself how badly they hurt you." His eyes quickly scaled her body from top to bottom, taking inventory. Her face had seemed to take the brunt of the beating, because other than a healing  
bruise on her lower left ribs and some markings on her thighs, she seemed unscathed.

"Why? There's nothing you can do about it now. Just let it go, please." She turned away from him and held out her hand behind her. "And give me my towel."

"Let it go? How can I let it go after what they did to you?"

"They did this to me because of what YOU did to THEM. So we're even now."

"I know I asked you this a few days ago but i'll ask you again. Who's side are you on here?"

"No one's. I'm done with taking sides. This has to stop!"

"He got to you, didn't he? That fucker got under your skin, brainwashed you into thinking we are the bad guys. That's why you haven't even looked at me, let alone touched me, since you've gotten back. Don't think I haven't noticed. And it hurts, Fee.  
It hurts so damn much." He tossed her the towel angrily and turned away, running a hand through his hair.

Fiona secured it around her body and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed his arm and forced him to turn back around and face her. There was no way he was putting this on HER, making her feel guilty. "I was raped, Rick! Do really you want to hear the  
gory details, because I'llrehash it all if you want! It was one of the worst experiences of my life and Ihonestly thought Iwas going to die afterwards. So forgive me for the fact that I don't want anyone touching me right now!"

"I love you, dammit! There's a difference!"

She was momentarily taken aback by his confession of love. It was the first time the word had been spoken between them, but it was something she didn't want to hear at the moment, simply because she wasnt prepared to deal with the ramifications.

So, taking the cowardly way out, she purposely tried to push him away with her words. "If you loved me you would have never let him take me." She said it so quietly but still loud enough for him to hear.

And that accusation hit harder than any she had thrown at him before.

He flinched and a visible wave of hurt passed over his eyes. "What was I supposed to do!? The maniac was going to kill one of us! What would you have done differently!? Who would YOU have sacrificed, then?"

She opened the door and walked past him to the bedroom. He followed and closed the door behind them, reminding himself Judith was asleep so they needed to keep their voices down. "Go on. Tell me!" When Fiona didn't answer, he answered for her. "Aaron-  
because he's gay? Michonne because she's African? Sasha or Abraham because they don't have children? Rosita because she's single? Daryl because he was already injured pretty badly? Glen, the father to be? Maggie the pregnant mother? How the hell was  
I supposed to choose? And how can anyone be asked to make that kind of choice!?"

He was crying now and once Fiona saw the depth of his emotion and his guilt, she backed down. She had suffered, but he had also been suffering in a different way, and she had been selfish not to have realized it sooner.

She walked over to him, surrendering, and stepped into his arms. "I'm sorry, Rick."

He brushed his lips across her forehead and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, too. And I'll keep apologizing for as long as it takes. I love you, Fee." There were those three little words again. "I love you and I don't want this to come between us. I can't  
lose you. We've both lost so much already."

His words were honest and sincere and there was no way she could remain mad at him. He was right. This wasn't his fault even though she had been using him as the scapegoat for awhile. She needed to let the anger and resentment go. He was a good man and  
he loved her. She loved him too, yet just like she remembered telling Bryson, it was a love she couldn't quite define just yet.

He tilted her chin up and slowly lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her tentatively. She had forgotten how sweet his kisses were. He liked to take his time, always slow and sensual. When he saw she wasn't resisting him, he deepened the kiss, wrapping  
his arms around her. "I've missed you so much," he murmured in her ear. "Let me make love to you. Please...let me show you how much I love you."

Her only response was her hands fumbling to undo his belt buckle. She pulled his shirt up out of the waist of his jeans and unbuttoned it, one button at a time. Then she let her hands explore his chiseled chest with its sprinkling of dark hair. She felt  
him guiding her backwards to the bed and when her legs hit the frame, she lowered herself down and backwards.

She was really doing this, wasn't she? It was time, though. A week of healing was more than fair, and he had been so patient with her. Besides, Negan wasn't coming back anyway. Seven days had passed which meant Bryson must have been doing better.  
The thought should not have saddened her but it did.

Rick was still kissing her as he maneuvered his body over hers. He tugged at the towel wrapped tightly around her body and it fell open. As soon as she felt his mouth on her breast and the strength of his erection between her thighs, she stiffened  
up and a sudden panic began forming in her chest. She pushed him away gently while rolling out from underneath him.

Clutching the towel around her once again she sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him. She was shivering and tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry Rick. I...can't...I...just not yet. It's too soon."

Immediately he was beside her, his arms around her to comfort her. "Shh. It's okay. I understand. I won't push you until you're ready. Just let me know what I can do, if anything."

Fiona nodded gratefully then stood up. "I'm going to get dressed and go to sleep. When you come up later, I'd like it if you could just...hold me."

He stepped up behind her and touched his lips to her neck then her bare shoulder. "I'd love to."  
Then, buttoning his shirt, he walked out, leaving her alone with her heavy thoughts. After throwing on a Tshirt and shorts she got into bed and curled into a ball on her side.

She hadn't stopped Rick because of rape memories and fear of getting back in the saddle.

No. It was more complicated than that.

She stopped him because when she was lying down with his body over hers, she had closed her eyes and imagined it was Negan there with her instead. And she felt a longing for him so intense and indescribable that it scared the hell out of her. For that  
reason alone, she knew it wasn't fair to Rick to proceed until she figured things out.

She tried not to think about Negan but he always crossed her mind at various points throughout the day. She always wondered what he was doing at that very moment, how he was getting along, and also how Bryson was healing, of course.

Her thoughts sometimes bordered on obsessive and it would be fair to say she missed him.

Not something she would have admitted right away, but now a week later, his absence had carved a noticeable hole in her heart. And the hardest part was knowing there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She had no way of contacting him. He was  
the enemy anyway. So a possible relationship would be totally inconceivable. Her friends would throw her out of Alexandria if it ever came to that, and she would be labeled a traitor with a capital T.

It really was a no win situation.

Which was why she needed to do the sensible thing and embrace Rick with open arms before she screwed things up beyond repair. Their relationship was safe, accepted and most importantly, he was good man.

And she'd be a fool to throw that all way for one night of mind blowing sex with a man who would most likely do and then ditch her anyway.

As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered how many times she would have to tell herself that to finally believe it, though. 


	18. Chapter 18

Negan had his head buried under the hood of his truck when he heard a sultry voice say, "Hey there, sexy. Need some help?" He felt a hand working its way up his thigh and right before it reached his crotch, he jerked away, bumping his head on the open  
hood of the truck on his way out. He cursed under his breath and turned around.

A pretty young blonde with corkscrew curls, green eyes and full lips was eyeing him keenly. "Sorry bout that. Just couldn't resist with that hot booty staring me in the face."

Negan forced a smile. "Erika. Hi. What can I do for you?"

She cocked her head and winked flirtatiously. "Do you really need me to answer that question?"  
She took a few steps towards him and closed the distance between them. Tracing her fingertip lightly across his chest she said, "I hear you and Lisa are on the outs."

"Didn't know we were ever on the ins."

"Either way, I'd like to come by tonight." She saw the brief look of surprise in his eyes and added quickly, "No strings attached, don't worry. It's just that, well, people are talking that you've gotten soft since what's her name left and  
maybe this might be a good way to prove them wrong. And I'm sure you're aching for a little fun. Your hand can only do so much."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, holding her tightly so she could feel every hard muscle in his body. And once those perfect breasts bounced into him, the one between his legs woke up as well. "Darlin, there ain't nothing  
soft about me," he said, his voice low and menacing.

"Mmm. So I've heard." She grinded her hips against him and groaned softly at the size and strength of him through his jeans. "So what do you say, handsome?"

He leaned over and brushed his lips against her ear. "Come by at 10."

Erika steppedaway and grinned. "I'll be there." She licked her lips and gave him a long look that promised all the good things to come and then blew him a kiss before strutting off.

He watched her walk away, admiring her tight ass, and figured one night wouldn't hurt anyone. She wasn't clingy like Lisa and he was literally going to explode if he didn't get some soon. Since the one woman he wanted was unavailable, off limits,  
and probably letting her boyfriend fuck her every night, he unfortunately had to make do with the ones he had.

Returning his attention back under the hood of his truck, he forced his thoughts away from Fiona and over to Erika's bodyinstead. Supposedly she was a stripper and dancer pre-apocalypse. He knew from experience that athletes always had the best  
bodies.

And the better the body, the better the distraction.

So he hoped.

Not too long after Erikaleft, a man named Rocco came over to talk to him. His friends were with him, and they seemed eager about something. Carla was also passing by on the way to the kitchen, a crate of fruit in her hand. She stopped, wanting  
to talk to Negan as well, but let the guys go first.

"Negan, we just got back from a scouting trip and guess what we found."

Without lifting his head from the inside of the car, he said, "Not in the guessing mood, boys. Why don't you just tell me."

"Another community. Small but easy to overtake. About 30 miles away."

Negan turned around and wiped his hands on the rag hanging from his back pocket. "Leave them be."

"What? Why?"

"Because I said so."

Rocco stared at him for the longest time trying to understand how and why his boss had changed so much practically overnight. And then it hit him. "She got to you didn't she? That little cunt you killed Zander over."

The mention of Fiona hit a raw nerve. Especially Rocco's choice of names for her. "She has nothing to do with it." Negan stepped up to him, staring him down and daring him to disagree. "We are juggling enough right now. It's gonna get out of control  
if we don't slow down."

Rocco sneered at him. "Bullshit. You're so pussy whipped it's pathetic. Since she left, you've been walking around in a fog and what, are you hoping if we stop the raiding and plundering, you can make friends with Alexandria and they'll embrace  
us with open arms? So you can move in there, fuck her every day and they won't kill you for it?" He chuckled sardonically. "Keep dreaming, bossman."

Negan slammed the hood of the truck and walked away before he did something he would regret. Calling back over his shoulder he said, "If I hear anyone gives that new group trouble, they will answer to me."

Carla hurried to catch up with him. "You okay?"

"Fine. Why?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, Rocco is right. You haven't been yourself since, well I don't really need to say it, do I?"

Negan stopped walking so he could look at her. "You know I love you, Carla, right?"

"I know, sweetie, so you can tell me to mind my own business but-"

A small smiled played at the corner of his mouth. "I'd never tell you that. What I was going to say was, please believe me that I'm fine. Nothing is wrong. I swear it. I'm just not ready to get involved in another takeover yet. Alexandria is still too  
new. Fuck, it's been a little over a week! I have to make sure things run smoothly with them before we take on another community."

"You miss her."

"And I also think we have enough outlets for supplies at this point. Our community hasn't grown in awhile so how much shit do we really need around here anyway?"

Carla frowned at the way he purposely ignored her last statement. So she crossed her arms in front of her chest, took a step closer to him and repeated it. "You miss her and you care about her. And you're starting to have a change of heart and realize  
being the big bad bully of this apocalpytic world can get you most of what you want, but not everything. At least not what matters most to you."

Negan closed his eyes and tried to block out her words.

But all he saw was the last image of Fiona embedded in his memory-of her in his truck, and the look on her beautiful face when he admitted he would give the guns back if he could keep her instead. He had wanted so badly to kiss her at that moment and  
it had taken all his willpower to let her go and say goodbye.

Carla was right, of course, but he would never admit it, not even to her.

He missed Fiona.

Terribly.

And not just the cat/mouse game of sexual attraction they had played, even though things had started out that way. It had been a hell of a lot of fun. And he was painfully attracted to her.

But once he got to know her better, it became more than that.

So much more.

He missed her spunk. He missed the way she challenged him. He missed watching her take charge in the infirmary, doing what she excelled at. Hell, he missed something as simple as having someone to talk to over coffee in the morning or dinner at night.

He had shied away from that kind of companionship for a very long time. Any woman who had the honor of sharing his bed knew they were not invited to stay the night. Ever. That was his one rule he stood by, and never bent or broke it. He hadn't wanted  
to form any attachments. And it was never an issue anyway because the pickings were so damn slim.

But then Fiona came into his life, whether as a blessing or a curse he still didn't know, and turned everything upside down.

Since she'd been gone, he had been scheming of ways to see her again. She invaded his thoughts during the day and haunted his dreams at night. And each morning he woke up hard as a rock and wanting her more than he did the day before. He couldn't go back  
to Alexandria for another supply pickup. It had only been a week. His men usually made monthly runs.

Besides, Rick would have a coronary if he went back tomorrow and demanded more food.

On second thought, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing, the devil in him thought in amusement. It would certainly be a convenient way to get Rick out of the picture at least. The thought of him being intimate with Fiona made him sick to his stomach.

Probably exactly the same way Rick felt when she had been kidnapped.

He couldn't help wonder if Fiona had run right back into his arms or was taking it slow after everything that had happened not only between them but also with Zander's attack.

He hoped with all his might it was the latter.

"You're a thousand miles away, handsome," Carla murmured as she watched in fascination at the storm which was brewing in his eyes. "Why won't you talk to me? Tell me what you're thinking for a change?"

Negan was pulled back from his heavy thoughts and forced another smile. "I'm thinking that I'm lucky to have you around."

"Stubborn as a mule," Carla muttered, hitting his arm playfully and rolling her eyes. "You don't have to admit anything, don't worry. It's written all over your face. So how are you gonna get back to see her, huh? There's gotta be a way."

Negan got his answer when Stella came running across the field in a panic. "Carla! Negan! Hurry! Please! It's Bryson! He needs help!" 


	19. Chapter 19

Fiona was working with Maggie in the garden late one afternoon. It had been a warm day, unusual for October, and she had worked up a decent sweat. Her arms and back were aching yet she reminded herself once again of Maggie's condition so didn't dare complain.

Speaking of Maggie's condition, Fiona realized she had been so self-absorbed in her own problems since returning home that she never inquired about anyone else's.

"So after that initial hiccup, things are going well with the pregnancy?" she asked, figuring now was as good a time as any.

"Yep. Glen and I go back to Hilltop next week for another sonogram. Getting on three months."

Fiona looked at her in awe. "That's crazy. Time is flying by."

Maggie rubbed her belly and smiled wistfully. "I know." She paused a moment before saying quietly, "We're doing the right thing, aren't we? Some nights I lie awake and wonder..."

Fiona didn't answer right away. Because honestly, she didn't know if she was in Maggie's shoes if she would be doing the same thing. But how could she come out and say that? It wasn't her decision. And definitely not her place to judge. "It's natural  
to have your doubts," she answered slowly. "But you're doing what you feel is right. And nobody can fault you for that."

Maggie frowned at her suspiciously. "That's too much of a politically correct answer for me which didn't even answer my question."

Busted.

Fiona smiled sheepishly. "You and Glen created a life. That's a miracle in itself."

"Were you ever...did you...have any children?"

"No."

Fiona didn't know why she blurted out the lie. She wasn't in the mood to get into a big discussion over it right now. Her mind was occupied with other things at the moment and she just wanted to keep working and keep her muscles moving to stay distracted.  
She and Rick had gotten into another argument last night. That seemed to be the pattern since she had returned home. She was cranky, on edge and always in a not so great mood. And unfortunately everything he seemed to say or do set her off.

Maggie sensed she was treading on a sensitive subject so quickly changed gears. "I know you love Judith and Carl. Are things between you and Rick okay?"

Wow.

She was throwing one zinger after another.

But Fiona knew she wasn't doing it to be malicious. That was just Maggie's way. Like her sister Beth, whom Fiona had been very close to. They were sweet, innocent Southern farm girls and had huge hearts. Maybe Fiona needed to spend some time cooking with  
Carol instead, even though she was horrible at it. Carol wouldn't be so nurturing or keen to having intimate discussions.

"We are fine, why?"

"No particular reason."

"Then why did you ask?"

Maggie didn't answer right away. When she finally did, she looked Fiona straight in the eye and said with her voice full of conviction, "He loves you. Very much."

"I know he does," Fiona snapped impatiently.

Then she walked off to the opposite end of the garden to check on the tomatoes. Her own guilt over her indecisive feelings for Rick was bad enough. She didn't need other people pressuring her and adding to that guilt.

She would figure things out on her own when she was ready.

She just couldn't figure out why it was taking this long...

Abraham was sitting on his post at the gate, smoking a cigarette. His shift was almost over and he was looking forward to having a quiet, romantic dinner with Sasha. That's why he cursed under his breath when he saw the black truck speeding up the road  
towards him. He only knew of one person who drove a truck like that. And that person usually meant trouble whenever he showed up.

He called Rick on the walkie talkie. "Get out here. We may have a situation."

Negan slammed on the breaks and the truck skidded on the gravel. He jumped out of the driver's seat and yelled up to Abraham. "I need Fiona!"

Abraham tried to contain his anger. "What is this, a fucking booty call, asshole? Get the hell off our property. You're not due back here for another three weeks."

"I have a sick man in the backseat! He's dying!"

"And how is that our problem?"

He didn't hear Negan's answer because Rick appeared below to open the gate. Abraham climbed down the ladder to help him, as well as to provide backup if needed. He didn't think it would be necessary though, as Negan appeared to have come alone.

Rick scowled when he saw who was on the opposite side. "What the hell do you want?"

"I need Fiona. I have a dying man in my backseat."

"Like I heard Abraham ask you a minute ago, how is that our problem?"

"Fiona had been taking care of him while she was with me. I need her help!"

"Go to Hilltop if you need a doctor. See if they welcome you with open arms after all the shit you put them through. Now get the hell out of here before I have my men physically remove you."

Negan clenched his teeth and tried to contain his anger at Rick's stubbornness. He was being a selfish dick and refusing to let him in purely out of spite he knew.

And probably jealousy too.

But a friend's life was at stake and Negan was desperate so he bolted past him through the gate and began running down the main road yelling Fiona's name.

Rick cursed and ran after him. "Get back here! Hey!"

Abraham watched them disappear down the street and then walked over to the truck, his curiosity getting the better of him. Did he really have an injured man back there? Or was it just a guise to trap Fiona into leaving with him again? He opened the back  
door on the drivers side and gasped at the pale, sickly man lying across the seat. He was sweating profusely and breathing shallow, agonized breaths. The end of his arm was covered in a rag stained with blood and pus. He opened his eyes  
briefly and stared up at him, glazed and confused. He was young, Abraham realized. Young and terrified to die.

"Fiona," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Fiona..."

Then he closed his eyes again and fell back into unconsciousness.

Abraham knew he probably shouldn't go against Rick, but he made an executive decision anyway and radioed Glen on the walkie talkie. "Get a stretcher from the infirmary and bring it to the front gate. ASAP. And tell Denise to prepare for a pretty sick  
patient."

Rick was going to let him have it, he was sure, but he wasn't going to let this innocent boy die without being given a chance. He didn't know how much Fiona or Denise could do for him at this point, but dammit, they had to at least try.

"FIONA! FIONA!"

At first Fiona thought she was hearing things. Hell, he occupied her thoughts almost 24/7 so why shouldn't she start having auditory hallucinations next? Shaking her head, she disregarded it and went back to her work.

But then it came again, louder and closer this time.

"FIONA!"

That voice.

Calling out to her in desperation.

Her head snapped up. Was he really here? Why? And how did he get in?

"FIONA!"

It could only be for one reason. Bryson.

She dropped her tools and ran towards the sound. It was coming from towards the entrance of the complex.

Maggie followed but at a much slower pace.

Fiona emerged between two houses and stopped in the street. There he was, desperately looking all around and still calling her name. He was wearing a white t shirt and jeans and when he turned in her direction she saw he hadn't shaved in awhile and his  
stubble had become a full blown goatee. She tried to calm her racing heart and remind herself he was here on business only but the sight of him still wrecked all kinds of havoc on her insides.

Negan couldn't speak at first once he saw her.

His eyes devoured her like a starving man as he took in every inch of her. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun with damp tendrils framing her face. Her bruises had fully faded and were replaced by smudges of dirt on her cheeks and forehead. Her T-shirt  
was pulled up and knotted tightly at her midriff, revealing a peek of ivory skin between it and the waist of her jeans. She was breathing heavily, chest heaving, and she looked so fucking beautiful it hurt.

But now wasn't the time, he reminded himself sternly.

"It's Bryson, isn't it?" she asked, breathlessly.

Negan nodded, finally finding his voice. "He's bad. He-"

Fiona didn't wait for him to finish. "Let's go." She started sprinting back to the gate and Negan ran alongside her. "They're going to let me back in?"

"No. He's here. I brought him to you. He's in my truck."

Her eyes widened in surprise and she ran faster.

Rick was coming towards them and he yelled her name, telling her to stop. When she didn't listen, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

She struggled to break free. "Let me go, Rick! He's sick!"

"He's not coming in here!" He grabbed her again, both her arms this time and shook her, not too hard but not exactly gentle either. "He can go to Hilltop! We aren't helping them when they are stealing from us and threatening to kill us!"

Negan stepped up to them and loomed over Rick. "Get your hands off of her. Now."

"Back off asshole," Rick spat at him. "Mind your own goddamn business. And you're never to cross my gates again, you hear me?"

Fiona looked up at Negan. "Start getting him out of the car. I'll prep a bed for him."

"Fiona!" Rick yelled again. "I said NO!"

"He's going to die, dammit!" She broke her hands free and pushed back against his chest. "I'm the doctor and I'm calling these fucking shots! You always tell us what to fucking do and we fucking listen like little fucking sheep and that's fine and good  
because you've kept us alive for so long, but not this time! Not with this! I care about this boy and I'm not going to let him fucking die if I can help it!"

By now, a small crowd had gathered on the streets from the commotion of all the yelling.

Tobin stepped up to them and asked gingerly. "We all ok here? Anything I can help with?"

Rick didn't acknowledge him but continued to stare at Fiona, his eyes shooting daggers. A muscle was working in his jaw and he looked angrier than Fiona had ever seen him. But she didn't wait for him to retaliate after her outburst, knowing she'd deal  
with the consequences later.

She sprinted off again and Negan followed.

"What happened?"

"If you're asking me to speak doctor, I have no clue, gorgeous. Stella came out screaming for help and next thing I knew, Carla was packing up supplies and I was getting him in the truck."

"Was he conscious on the way here?"

"In and out."

They reached the gate and Fiona was shocked to see Glen, Abraham and Denise already loading Bryson onto a portable stretcher. He was pale and unconscious and a quick feel of his thready pulse told her all she needed to know.

"He's septic. Hurry up." She lifted the stretcher with Glen and Denise and hurried to the infirmary. Abraham remained behind, unable to abandon his post at the gate until Aaron relieved him. He wouldn't be any help to them anyway.

Negan ran back to the truck, hauled a crate of supplies from the trunk and hurried to catch up with Fiona. As he passed Abraham, he realized what he had done, going against Rick's orders and calling for the stretcher. He looked at him and simply  
said, "Thank you."

Abraham scowled. "I didn't do it for you, asshole. And if you try anything funny in there, you'll be answering to me."

Negan gave him a quick salute and ran off to catch up with Fiona. 


	20. Chapter 20

Fiona washed her hands, scrubbing away all the garden dirt and grimeand then got right to work, barking orders at anyone who would listen. She was grateful to have Denise as her sidekick, because she anticipated alot of what needed to be done without  
having to be told. Fiona was in the process of unwrapping the bandage on Bryson's arm when Negan came through the door with the crate of supplies.

"Carla packed up some things you probably could use," he said. "Where do you want it?"

Fiona pointed to the counter. "Over there, thanks." She felt her eyes start to stray towards him, because she was dying to look at him, really look at him after all this time, but she reminded herself she had work to do. "Denise, there should be  
bags of fluids in there. Start one and run it wide open. His IV line is still intact. He needs volume. His pressure is dropping fast."

She blanched when she saw the condition of his wound. "And hang a bag of antibiotics as well," she added. "Actually, hang two. Is there any Vanco in there?"

Denise rummaged through the crate, taking a quick inventory. "No. Just Unasyn, Ceftriaxone and Ampicillin."

"Do you need me to run back for anything?" Negan asked.

"Not right now."

"Can I do anything then?" he asked, feeling helpless as ever.

Fiona paused and finallyallowed herself to look up at him. His face was drawn, he looked exhausted and he was obviously worried about Bryson. Those brown eyes were still so intense and he looked more handsome than she ever remembered. She wanted  
so badly to reassure him Bryson was going to be okay. But with the squalid condition of his arm, there was no way she could ever make that guarantee. "I'll let you know. I promise. Just be on standby."

"I can do that. And remember, a heads up if you decide to faint again, please."

Fiona met his eyes across the room again and a small, shy smile graced her lips. "Right."

Their interaction did not go unnoticed.

Especially by Rick, who had walked in a few minutes earlier after stopping by the gate to give Abraham a piece of his mind. He stood in the back of the room by the door, arms crossed over his chest, and didn't say a word.

He was still fuming over the way Fiona had publicly insulted and embarrassed him.

He hardly ever heard her curse, yet the amount of F-bombs that had spewed from her mouth during that one heated moment had rendered him speechless.

He had asked her a few times since she had returned, mostly in a jokingly sarcastic manner, which side she was on. But now he was slowly starting to realize the answer. Not only was she disobeying his wishes and fighting to help a Savior, but also the  
chemistry (a word he was even loathe to use, yet didn't know what else to call it), between her and Negan was quite disturbing. He was going to sit her down tonight and force her to finally talk about what exactly happened during her time away. He  
deserved some answers. And he deserved the truth.

Negan was well aware when Rick returned because he kept shooting him dirty looks from across the room. He tried not to smile when he thought of how Fiona had laid into him out on the street. He always knew she was a strong woman, yet that scene had confirmed  
it. What he felt while watching her stick up for herself and for what she believed in was nothing short of pride. Even though hearing her say the F-word was one of his guilty pleasures because he found it sexy as hell, he felt bad that he had rubbed  
off on her more than he realized.

So while he watched Fiona work, once again in awe of her control and her skills, Rick watched him watching her. And what Rick observed made him sick to his stomach because things were finally starting to fall into place and make some kind of sense.

Fiona was well aware of the tension in the room and it was a distraction she certainly didn't need at the moment. She was about to tell both men to wait outside until they stabilized Bryson but then realized that wasn't such a good idea. Because they  
would probably kill each other before she was done. She focused her attention back to Bryson's arm and began the tedious process of cleaning the wound. There was so much denuded skin to remove and the pungent smell of decaying infected tissue kept  
causing a constant wave of nausea to pass through her. The ultimate goal was to slice away all the rot and try to create clean edges around the wound once again.

Each time Negan or Rick offered her something to drink she waved them away. She was focused, determined and wouldn't stop until she was finished.

It took almost two hours.

Four bags of IV fluids had finally stabilized his blood pressure and his fever had decreased from  
105 to 102. He was producing urine through the catheter Denise had placed, which was a reassuring sign his kidneys were back up and running. He was still unconscious but thankfully never stopped breathing on his own. If and when that happened, they were  
toast. Because they didn't have any means to intubate or ventilate him.

Fiona decided not to wrap his arm in order to let it breathe overnight. Denise hung another cocktail of antibiotics and then began tidying up. Fiona peeled off her dirty gloves and gave her hands a thorough washing. She still couldn't rid the smell from  
her nostrils and keeled over the sink, dry heaving a few times. Nothing came up because her stomach was empty. Lunch had been eons ago.

When he saw her start retching, Negan instinctively moved to go to her but backed off when Rick got there first. He also noticed Daryl was eyeing him suspiciously and realized he needed to play it cool.

Rick helped her to the nearest stool and she collapsed onto it wearily. "You need to go home and rest," he said quietly. "You're exhausted."

"I'm fine. Just let me finish up here."

Daryl handed her a can of soda. "Drink," he ordered.

Fiona smiled wearily. "You found me a can of Coke!?"

"Sure did. Been saving it for a special occasion."

She popped the top and took a few long swigs. It was ice cold. And tasted like heaven. "Thank you."

Denise came to sit down beside her. "So I'll take the overnight shift. We have enough fluids and antibiotics to last through the night but he will probably have to make a supply run in the morning," she said, glancing nervously at Negan. She hadn't been  
in that forest clearing on her knees in the lineup, but the horror stories she had heard about it were enough to give her nightmares and fear the man now standing in her infirmary.

"He'll go tonight," Rick spoke up. "He doesn't need to be here anymore."

Negan shook his head. "I'm not going. I promised Stella I wouldn't leave him until he's stable."

Denise's eyes widened at the thought of having him as company overnight.

"Then you can sleep in our holding cell and we will let you out in the morning. If he starts to decompensate, Denise will come and get you."

Fiona jumped up. "No, Rick! He's not our prisoner. He's not being locked up in that cell. He can take number 45. It's empty. At least he will have a bed and shower."

Without responding, Rick grabbed Fiona's hand and led her outside.

Negan didn't like the way he kept manhandling her and it took every ounce of self-restraint not to intervene.

Once alone outside, Rick said quietly, "You crossed me once today already. You don't get to do it again! He either takes the cell or he goes home! This is not negotiable. You put him up in a house, next thing we know it's morning, all our guns and  
supplies are cleaned out and he's nowhere to be found."

Fiona rolled her eyes. "He's not going to do that."

"Oh! You know that for a fact, right!?" He raised his voice, unable to contain his anger.

Daryl had joined them outside to intervene if necessary. Rick was overreacting and he actually agreed with Fiona on this one. He held out his hand between them and addressed Rick when he spoke. "I'll sit guard outside overnight on the porch if you're  
that concerned. Personally, I don't think he's a threat to us right now. He's unarmed and obviously worried about this kid."

Rick looked at him for the longest time, weighing his options. "Do whatever you want," he finally spat out. "I'm done. If anything happens, it's on YOU. Both of you, actually." Then he stormed off, heading towards home.

Fiona looked at Daryl wearily. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Just...whatever is going on here... Just be careful."

His warning made Fiona wonder if he knew more than he was letting on or if there was obviously something visible between her and Negan that others could see. If that was the case, she needed to be more careful and guarded with her feelings.

Nodding, she went back inside. Negan was sitting beside Bryson, staring at him sadly, his hand resting on his good arm. He looked up when he heard Fiona return and saw Daryl behind her. "Daryl is going to show you where you can stay tonight."

"Thank you." He stood up and joined her by the door. Looking down at her, she could tell he wanted to say so much, but he, too, understood the need for discretion. "And thank you for all you did for Bryson."

"Let's go," Daryl said impatiently.

He didn't like the way Fiona was looking at Negan. He knew Negan obviously had a thing for her, but her for him? Was it even possible? Maggie had made a sly comment earlier about the look on Fiona's face when she heard Negan calling her name. At first  
he had thought Maggie had misread it and Fiona had just been terrified that Negan was back to take her prisoner again. But now he was starting to think, as crazy as it sounded, that Fiona wouldn't have minded being abducted again.

He needed to stop speculating and just talk to Fiona when he had a chance. The two of them were pretty close and he liked to believe she would open up to him and be honest. But for now, he had a job to do and a watch to start.

He nudged Negan out the door.

Negan turned back one last time to look at Fiona but she had already turned away and was leaning over Bryson, checking his vitals before she left for the night. It killed him that she was finally so close again yet so unavailable. Everyone was watching  
him like a hawk and it was frustrating as hell. And now he was going to be stuck with the redneck babysitter all night.

At least it was better than sleeping on the hard floor in a cell, he told himself as he followed Daryl out.

When Fiona got home, she was relieved to see Rick was sitting in the kitchen eating with Michonne, Carl and Judith. It meant there would be no ugly arguments tonight. She said a quick hello then hurried upstairs to pack.

After the episode this afternoon out in the street and the way she felt seeing Negan again in the flesh (both which added onto her grievances with Rick), the best thing for everyone was for her to move out. Thankfully, Carol had agreed to take her in,  
no questions asked. Tonight she would only take the bare essentials and tomorrow she would come back for the rest.

A few minutes later, Rick came in the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He looked surprised to see her stuffing things into her backpack. "Where are you going?"

"Carol's."

"Why?"

She looked at him, exasperated. "Because I think some time apart would do us good right now, don't you agree?"

"Bullshit. He shows up and suddenly you're moving out. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me exactly what happened while you were with him! You owe it to me. You haven't said a goddamn thing since you got back and dammit, I deserve to know!"

"You don't deserve to know anything! You weren't the one who went through it! And It's because of your rash decisions that I had to suffer through it all in the first place! It's your fault I got raped! Ok? There! I said it! I blame you!"

Rick didn't flinch nor acknowledge the accusation. "What did he do to you?" he demanded, still stuck on Negan. "How many times did he fuck you!? Did you like it!? TELL ME!"

"HE DIDN'T TOUCH ME! NOT ONCE!"

Her answer seemed to anger him more than if she had told him they fucked multiple times a day and she had begged for more. His face contorted into an ugly scowl as he stepped up to her and hissed, "You couldn't tell me this 10 days ago!? You have ANY  
idea how often I lay awake at night unable to rid my mind of the images of you and him together- all the detailed things he told me you did! Why didn't you TELL me!?"

"I don't know! I was trying to come to terms with everything else! That was the least of my concerns!"

"So I was the least of your concerns. That's basically what you're saying."

"It's late, Rick. It's been a hell of a long day and I'm tired. We can finish this tomorrow."

"No need to. You've said your piece loud and clear. Come and clean out your stuff tomorrow and then don't come back. I don't want you around my family anymore. We're done."

His harsh words and the finality of them shocked her. But it was for the best. This was what she wanted, right? To alienate him so he would leave her alone?

She just didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did.

Blinking back tears, Fiona paused by the door and turned back to look at him. "The way you acted today- trying to stop us from helping a dying man-made me ashamed to be associated with you. You're not the same man I became friends with over a year  
ago- the man I thought I could one day fall in love with. You've changed. You've become this person I don't even recognize. And I hate it, Rick. I just want you back the way you were."

With that, she left.

She hurried down the stairs, gave a quick wave to Carl and Michonne without stopping and walked out the door.

She'd have a heart to heart with Carl when she came back for her stuff tomorrow.

He was old enough to understand and she knew he at least deserved an explanation. 


	21. Chapter 21

Not sure why my page breaks haven't been showing up. (Sorry for the choppiness of the past few chapters). Thanks again to all my readers! Hope you guys enjoy this one?

* * *

Daryl and Negan walked in silence.

They made a pit stop so Daryl could grab his crossbar from his own porch then headed over to number 45.

"You should have everything you need in there," he said as they climbed the porch stairs. "The houses all came well stocked. The owners seemed to have left in a hurry." Unlocking the door, he grabbed Negan's arm before he walked inside. "You try anything  
funny tonight and I'll put an arrow straight through your heart, ya hear me?"

Negan smiled at him- that cocky grin that was equal parts charming and infuriating at the same time. "Good ol southern hospitality, huh? Sweet dreams to you, too, redneck."

He walked inside and shut the door behind him, turning the lock. He didn't like that Daryl had a key and anyone could come in and ambush him while he was asleep. But then he realized the back door and windows were unguarded exit points, so they were actually  
on equal footing. He had no intention of leaving the house anyway. He was outnumbered and unarmed and he just wanted to get a good night's sleep.

He walked through the living room into the kitchen with its granite island and stainless steel appliances. He ran a hand over the large stove and a memory came to him, unbidden, of he and Sarah cooking breakfast together every Sunday morning. She would  
stand on a chair at the counter by his side, his little apprentice. He used to love to cook back in the day. Omelets and pasta sauce were his specialties.

He opened the fridge and found a pitcher of water. Grabbing a clean glass from the dishdrain by the sink, he poured himself some and drank greedily. He was starving too, and found some soup in the pantry.

God, he was so sick of soup.

He made his way upstairs after eating, peeking into doorways until he found the master bathroom. The house was beautiful and modern with every possible amenity. Usually it took a hell of a lot to impress him but he was fucking impressed. He couldn't get  
over the luxury. He thought his colonel's house was a mansion. It was nothing compared to these units. He wondered how many were left unoccupied but then reprimanded himself for even entertaining the thought.

After a quick shower with state of the art massage jets, he put his jeans on and made his way back downstairs. He had seen some books on the built-in shelves in the living room and figured he'd read a bit because he was too wired to sleep yet.

He scanned the authors and titles and smiled to himself.

Stephen King, James Patterson and John Grisham.

A nice change from the classics that bogged down his shelves at home.

He chose a Stephen King he had never read and walked to the window. Daryl was sitting on the porch swing staring out into the street and smoking a cigarette. He pulled the curtains closed, settled on the couch and turned on the table lamp.

Then he lost himself in the genius fiction of Stephen King. 

* * *

Carol opened the door and the first thing she noticed was the tears in Fiona's eyes.

"He didn't take it so well?"

"I guess you can say that. We're finished."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Fiona dropped her backpack on the floor.

Carol looked like she wanted to say more but then decided against it. "I left some casserole in the oven. You've got to be starving. And take the guest room at the top of the stairs. I'm going to Tobin's for the night. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. I'm actually craving a little alone time."

"Well, enjoy. Help yourself to whatever."

"Thanks again for this. It's only temporary."

"It can be for however long you need."

When she left, Fiona sat down wearily at the kitchen counter and devoured a piece of the casserole. It was delicious. Then she went upstairs, showered and brushed her teeth.

She got into bed but couldn't sleep.

Negan was just a few houses away and she was dying to see him. She wanted to talk to him, to see him smile that dimpled smile just for her. She missed their conversations. She missed their friendship.

Friendship, Fiona? Really? The voice in her head sneered.

Well it was definitely more than an acquaintance.

He had saved her life. And killed for her.

Acquaintances didn't take such risks.

She began to wrack her brain for ways she could possibly get inside that house as her need to see him began to intensify tenfold. Daryl would not fall asleep on his watch so that made the front door out of the question. Besides, she didn't have a key  
anyway. Windows were probably all locked as well as the back door.

The back door!

She sprung up in bed.

Not too long ago, she remembered Carl telling her that the back doors of most units had locks that could easily be picked. When he and Enid wanted some alone time, they would hang out in one of the empty houses. Doing what, Fiona didn't want to think  
about, for he wasn't even fifteen yet, but he had said bobby pins were the best tool.

Changing her clothes, she rummaged through Carol's bathroom and finally found two skinny hair pins which should do the trick. Then she left out the back door.

It had started to rain, which gave her the advantage because no one was out and about, but she kept to the shadows and bushes anyway, hurrying from one backyard to the next. She finally crossed the street at the far end of the complex and then doubled  
back, still staying to the backyards, counting until she reached what she hoped was number 45. She could smell Daryl's cigarette smoke coming from around the front so she knew she was in the right place.

She quietly moved to the back door and pulled the hairpins out of her pocket. The kitchen was dark, no light coming from inside. The lock wouldn't budge after a few attempts and she cursed under her breath, both at Carl and herself. Rain was running down  
her face and she pushed her hair out of her eyes in frustration. Trying a different angle, she refused to give up. Her fingers kept slipping because the pins were slick and she dropped one in her haste. Cursing again, she got to her knees and  
felt around blindly in the dark because she hadn't brought a flashlight along. Finally, her fingers closed in around it and she stood up and tried again. She wanted to cry out in relief when she felt the lock give and turn.

She tiptoed inside and closed the door quietly, turning the lock back into place. She squeezed the ends of her hair in the sink to remove all the excess water and ran a hand through her wet locks to tame them.

Heart pounding, she made her way quietly down the hall to the living room where she saw a light burning dimly.

She paused in the doorway when she saw him and her heart skipped a beat then took off at breakneck speed. He was sitting on the couch, glasses on. His head was down and he was reading. He was shirtless, and this was the first time she saw  
him half-naked.

It was a beautiful sight.

His chest was broad, muscles chiseled and decorated with a spattering of tattoos of different shapes and sizes.

He was the sexiest nerd she had ever seen. 

* * *

Negan was slowly fading, his eyelids growing heavy. He rested his head back against the couch and yawned. He needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be another long day. Especially if he had to drive back to the Sanctuary for more supples and  
try to convince an emotional Stella that Bryson was doing okay.

He rubbed a hand over his face and lifted his weary head off the couch. When he reopened his eyes, he thought he was hallucinating. Fiona was standing there in the doorway, a mere fifteen feet away. She was drenched from the rain, her hair hanging in  
wet waves over her shoulders and she was watching him with the most intense look in her eyes.

His jaw slackened and he couldn't seem to find the right words to ask what the hell she was doing there or how she had gotten inside. In mere seconds, his fatigue faded like magic and suddenly every nerve in his body was awake and humming.

"Hi." It was all he could manage to say.

"Hey." Fiona leaned her shoulder against the wall suddenly feeling a bit self conscious. He didn't seem as excited to see her as she had expected. He looked tired, too. Maybe this was a bad idea all around.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Thought maybe you'd want some company."

His lips curled up in a slow, satisfied grin, and when she saw those dimples appear, she realized she was just being silly. Of course he wanted to see her.

"I'd love some, gorgeous," he said in that deep husky voice that always seemed to affect her.

She closed the distance between them and without hesitation, climbed onto his lap, straddling him. She linked her hands behind his neck and lowered her mouth to his.

Then she kissed him.

Hungrily, desperately, as if she had been fasting for days.

It had been more than a week actually. Ten days since he had dropped her off at Alexandria and ten days she hadn't stopped thinking about him.

She wanted him with a physical hunger that was greater than anything her body had ever felt before. Whether it was right or wrong, or the worst decision she could possibly make, she didn't care. She was here and there was no turning back now.

Negan's hands gripped her small waist and she certainly felt real enough, but he was still so afraid he was only dreaming. "If this is a dream," he murmured, "I better not wake the fuck up till its over."

Fiona smiled against his mouth. "I'll make sure you don't." Dying to touch him, she slowly ran her hands down his chest then back up again and over his shoulders and biceps, learning every curve and dip of muscle beneath his skin. "But it's not a dream,"  
she whispered before her lips returned to his.

He kissed her deeply, devouring her as if he was a starving man. She smelled so good, like fresh soap and fruity shampoo, and her skin, when he slipped his hands under her shirt and up her back, was baby soft.

Fiona shivered at the feel of his fingers on her bare skin, longing to feel them everywhere. She shifted slightly on his lap, to better position her wanting center over the long hard length of him. She was so turned on already, just from a few kisses,  
and needed more. Much more. She began grinding against him, moving her hips in a slow, sultry rotation.

Negan groaned, probing his tongue deeper into her mouth. Sliding his hands around to her front, he skimmed the underside of her breasts and then his fingers retreated down to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. The black lace ensemble  
beneath was push up and see-through and her rosy tips strained against the delicate fabric.

He flashed her a rakish grin. "You expecting to get lucky, gorgeous?"

Fiona smiled shyly. "Figured I had a pretty good shot."

"You figured right." He caressed her neck, moving his hand down the hollow of her throat and over her breastbone. Splaying his fingers out, he could feel her heart pounding inside her chest. He was dying to touch her, to take those perfect little breasts  
in his hands. Lifting one bra strap, he slid it off and kissed her shoulder where it had rested. Then he did the same with the other strap. "I don't think I'll be able to control myself if your panties match, too," he teased.

"Then take me upstairs and let's find out."

The sexy gleam of mischief in her eye was all the convincing he needed. He took off his glasses, tossing them aside, then stood up, taking her with him. She was feather light in his arms and she wrapped her legs snugly around his waist. She nibbled his  
neck as he carried her  
upstairs and his cock throbbed within the restraint of his jeans as he felt the warmth between her legs.

When he reached the landing, he paused, remembering the question his muddled brain had asked himself when he first saw her appear in the living room. "How the hell did you get in here anyway? The doors were all locked."

Fiona smirked. "Living in the same house as a teenager has its perks." She realized sadly as she said it that she wasn't actually living with Rick and his family anymore. But that feeling of loss quickly passed as one of desire overpowered it.

She was in Negan's arms, he was huge and he was obviously more than ready.

So was she.

She needed him inside of her soon or she was going to explode.

Both literally and figuratively.

Still a bit confused by her cryptic answer, Negan was too distracted to pursue it further, so instead refocused his attention to the task at hand. He returned to kissing those delicious lips as he made his way down the hallway into the master suite,  
closing the door behind him with his foot. Then he lay her in the center of the bed and climbed in after her. He positioned his body over hers and kissed her again, his hands cupping her breasts through the thin lace of her bra. His lips then travelled  
down her jaw, across her collarbone and into her cleavage. She felt her nipples harden, expecting him to pay homage to them with his mouth, but he took her by surprise as his lips trailed south instead down over her stomach, his tongue circling her  
navel. He unzipped her jeans and slowly slid them down her hips until she was able to kick them off.

He paused, admiring her matching black lace underwear which happened to be see-through, just like her bra. A patch of short dark hair was visible beneath, coming to a v and disappearing between her legs.

"Tell me how exactly does one find lingerie like this in an apocalypse?" he teased, fingering the waistline of the panties before sliding his hand over her mound.

Fiona arched her back at his touch, wanting to beg for more. "My friends are very good at supply runs. They found a mall a few months ago and, well, the Victoria's Secret had been fully stocked. The stores usually don't carry much of my size but Daryl  
found a few things."

Negan's eyes narrowed at the mention of the redneck. "Daryl, huh? I bet he loved imagining how everything would look on you."

Fiona rolled her eyes. "He's like a brother to me. There's nothing remotely romantic there, trust me. Besides, he's not my type."

"Good. Because I don't think I can stand the thought of sharing you and this deliciously petite body with anyone else...ever again."

Wait.

What did he just say?

Was he already claiming her as his own?

He shook his head to empty it. Now wasn't the time to analyze things. He'd worry about it later and what it truly meant.

For now, jealousy and the thought of Daryl picking out lingerie for Fiona made him even hungrier for her. He tugged her panties aside and felt her readiness. "Fuck, you are soaking wet, gorgeous," he groaned, then slid them down her legs, pulling them  
off completely. Slipping two long fingers inside, he stroked her velvety confines, touching all the right spots to make her writhe and moan. When his mouth replaced his hands and his tongue teased her clit, she saw stars. She fisted the sheets, closed  
her eyes and bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. The sensations of pleasure mixed with pain felt so good and unlike anything she had ever experienced before. He certainly knew what he was doing. There was no doubt about that.

She felt the tension inside of her mounting and didn't know how much longer she would be able to hold out. She grabbed his head and pulled him up towards her. "I'm close," she gasped. "I want to come with you inside of me."

"You'll be coming all night, don't you worry about that. I have big plans for you, none of which include sleep and all which end with you not being able to walk tomorrow." He smiled down at her, then wiped a hand over his lips and chin before capturing  
her mouth in another kiss. Fiona tasted herself on his tongue and it turned her on even more than she already was, a feat she had believed to be impossible.

"I want YOU first, though," she breathed, tugging impatiently at the waist of his jeans and pulling them down, taking his boxers with them. Fully naked, he was a sight to behold, strong, god-like and powerful. She was terrified of him yet also wanted  
him with every fiber of her being. Her hands encircled the length of him as she guided him between her legs.

"Fuck me, Negan. Fuck me now, please."

His lips had moved down to her breast and with a nipple between his teeth he froze, stopping all his kissing and caressing and just stared at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Say it again."

She boldly met his gaze and arched her hips up until she felt his tip twitching against her slick folds. "I want you so badly...Fuck me, Negan."

It was the sexiest thing he ever heard. Especially coming from her mouth.

Countless women had uttered that line to him in the past but it was all part of the act, them trying to talk dirty to keep him entertained. Yet Fiona had nothing to worry about or prove, so to hear such a reserved, intelligent and somewhat shy woman lose  
all abandon and surrender to him so completely like that...well... there just weren't any words.

So all the plans he had of taking his time and going slow went right out the window.

A low groan escaped his lips and he grabbed her hips, thrusting into her forcefully, making her gasp. She was so wet and so tight and if he didn't watch out, he would let go much too soon. He pulled out slowly, teased at her entrance then reentered  
her again, as deep as he could go.

Fiona knew she was making noises that probably didn't sound fully human. He was filling her up completely, and every spot he touched was the right one, sending jolts of pleasure throughout her core. Sighing, she closed her eyes, savoring every sensation,  
and began to move in sync with him.

Negan brushed his hand over her cheek. "Look at me, gorgeous," he whispered tenderly.

Fiona obeyed.

She would do anything he asked of her at this point.

She was his.

Utterly and completely.

Her eyes fluttered back open and held fast to his, while he continued to move above her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her nails into his back. The muscles in his arms strained as he kept most of his body weight off of her. His thrusts  
were long and hard but soon he began to quicken the pace, and she felt her body on the verge of a fabulous explosion.

Negan felt her walls begin to tighten around him. "You close?" he murmured, capturing her mouth in another kiss.

"I'm there," she gasped. "Oh god, Negan!" His name was the last thing she said. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out as the most intensely powerful orgasm she ever experienced ripped her apart.

He watched her tenderly, awestruck, as waves of pleasure washed over her and her body trembled in his arms.

This was his new purpose in life, he realized in a haze. To pleasure her every day.

God help him, it was all he wanted to do.

His cock twitched, reminding him how close he was, too. He had held out long enough. He began to move inside her again, deep thrusts which penetrated all the way to her back wall. "I'll pull out in a second," he groaned, realizing they didn't use any  
protection.

"Don't. I'm on the pill." Her blue eyes met his, still drunk with pleasure and she lifted a hand to his stubbled cheek. "Stay inside of me. Please."

He didn't need to be told twice.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close, burying his face in her neck as he emptied himself. His favorite expletive couldn't even fully do his orgasm justice, so he remained silent, just savoring the feel and scent of her soft skin instead.  
He touched his lips to the base of her throat in a gentle kiss. Then he collapsed onto his back and it took him awhile to slow his ragged breathing. He was still surprisingly rock hard and wondered in amusement if he could go a second round.

Turning onto his side, he propped his head up on his elbow and grinned lazily over at her. "So Victoria's Secret AND the pill?"

Fiona smiled secretly, running her fingers up and down his arm, loving the feel of his muscles beneath. "We found a well stocked pharmacy, too. I told you we are good at what we do."

"No, YOU'RE good, gorgeous," he corrected her. "Fucking incredible, actually." Even though it was dark in the room, he could tell she was blushing. And there was that sweet innocence he was so drawn to.

"Thanks. And you're not so bad yourself. But you know that already. You bragged about it the first night you kidnapped me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't kidnapped too harsh a word?"

"What else would you call it?"

"Temporary abduction?"

Fiona laughed. "Same difference."

Negan rolled back over her and began kissing her again-slowly, thoroughly. "So is your body completely numb?" he asked, referring to the kind of orgasms he bragged to her about that first night.

Fiona squirmed beneath him when his mouth took her breast, sucking on a nipple. She fisted his hair and arched her hips up greedily. "Not... quite. I think you need to try again."

Dimples bared, his grin was as big as a kid's in a candy store. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Then he threw the covers up and over them, disappeared below, and went straight to work. 


	22. Chapter 22

Fiona felt herself drifting. She was lying in Negan's arms, her head against his chest. Her eyelids were getting heavy and her body was blissfully numb. She felt weightless. The past few hours spent in bed with him were unlike anything she had ever experienced  
before. He was insatiable and couldn't seem to get enough of her body. She had never been worshipped so completely or had a lover so attentive and unselfish.

She felt his hand brush her hair off her forehead and his voice soft in her ear. "You're dozing. What did I tell you about sleeping?"

Her eyes fluttered back open and she repositioned herself so she could look over at him. "You've worn me out."

"Oh, so finally you admit it?

"Yes. I can't move."

His response was a dimpled, cocky grin. "Mission accomplished, then."

"You're good. I know you know it but I had to tell you anyway...I never realized exactly what I was missing out on."

Negan frowned at the thought of prior lovers taking her for granted. Her cryptic comment also made him even more curious about her past. So it spurred him to ask, "What were things like...before? And you don't have to answer if you don't want to talk  
about it. I'd understand."

Fiona didn't answer right away. She never spoke about her life pre-apocalypse with anyone, not even Rick during all the time they had known each other. It was something she kept very private and close to her heart. Yet here, now, in Negan's arms, she  
was shocked that she actually wanted to let it all out and unburden herself, and that she felt comfortable doing so to him.

"I was married, almost 10 years. He was a decent guy. Came from a good family. Lost my virginity on my wedding night, so he was my first and only. It took us longer to have kids than we expected. We eventually had to go through years of fertility treatments  
but it worked and I got my two miracles. They became my whole life...My husband was a big shot finance guy. Worked late hours, travelled often...Money was never an issue. We lived a very comfortable life. But I was so...lonely." She could feel  
herself getting choked up as the memories came rushing back to her. "We began fighting alot and I think he was actually considering leaving me right before this whole zombie outbreak. I saw a text on his phone that he had sent to his brother. How  
he was miserable and needed a change. I couldn't understand that- Because I was the one working full time, then taking care of the kids on top of it. Yet HE needed a change!?" She shook her head at the irony. "We never had time for each other so  
I guess that was part of the problem...Our sex life was a joke- maybe my struggle with infertility took all the romance out of things, but we hardly ever had any...But when you have kids, you make sacrifices and they come first, right?" It  
was a rhetorical question and she didn't expect him to answer. So she continued quietly. "I was ready to suggest marriage counseling because I couldn't bear the thought of breaking up our family and what it would do to our kids. But then that fateful  
day the virus broke out, I was at work and rushed home when I heard the news...the kids had been with the Nanny all day...and when I got there, it was too late...The three of them...had turned."

She choked back a sob as she remembered the scene.

They had been in her son's room, Legos of all shapes and sizes cluttering the floor, a half built tower in the middle of the rug. And the three of them walking around like zombies. She still didn't know how she had the strength or willpower to run back  
down to the kitchen, grab a knife from her butcher block and put it through their skulls.

Negan closed his eyes to block out the horrific image. "Your husband?"

Fiona shook her head. "I waited there, in that house, for a few days, with the hope if he was somehow alive and okay he would find his way back to me. But he never came... Our neighborhood was overrun with walkers by then and I had no choice but to finally  
leave... I met up with Rick, his family and Carol not too long after...and they became my new family."

She didn't realize she was crying until she felt his fingers gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I still miss them so much. I think about them every day."

"I'm sure you do. Because I do, too...As cliched as it sounds, they are in a better place. I tell myself the same about Sarah. God, I can't even imagine trying to explain things to her if she was living through this right now. It would have taken  
away all her innocence..."

"You're right. ...I've thought about that...And how hard it would be trying to keep them safe."

"It would be impossible." He paused a moment then added on a lighter note, "Your husband sounded like a real asshole by the way."

Fiona shrugged nonchalantly. "He meant well. And he never hurt me or the kids. We just never had a lot in common to begin with. And I guess if I'm being honest, I married him more for my family than myself. He was one of the few guys I brought home who  
they actually approved of."

Negan looked at her in surprise. "So you were into the bad boys?"

Fiona let out a half hearted chuckle. "Not quite. They just had such high standards for me because I was a fucking doctor and nobody was ever good enough-whether it be class, occupation or nationality. There was something wrong with everyone and I hated  
being put on that pedestal... It's hard to explain."

"No need to. I get it."

"What about you?"

He took a deep breath.

He had already broken the ice about Sarah so the rest shouldn't be nearly as difficult. But his voice still cracked once he began to speak.

"I loved my wife. She was my high school sweetheart. Married her after college. We travelled the world. Thought we never wanted kids but then she got pregnant by accident. We were actually considering aborting the pregnancy as horrible as that makes us  
sound. But she had a dream one night and it changed her whole outlook on things. She never told me what that dream was about, but I could tell it really affected her. So we became parents and God, Sarah was such a ray of sunshine in our lives. She  
was so bright, so loving, and smart as a whip...When she turned 5 and went for her routine check up at the pediatrician, her blood work came back abnormal and they sent us to a specialist right away. Next thing we knew, a doctor was using the C word  
and we were battling leukemia." His voice hitched at the memory and he had to compose himself before continuing. "Chemo, ports for blood draw access, ANC... Suddenly we were talking in this whole new language... Zofran became Sarah's new best friend  
because the chemo would make her so fucking sick and it was the only medicine that helped keep the nausea at bay...She was a fighter, though...But after two years, she had no fight left in her. She got a bad blood infection and couldn't shake  
it. That was the beginning of the end..."

Fiona took his hand, laced her fingers through his and gave it a supportive squeeze. She didn't say anything. There was no need.

Now that he had started, Negan couldn't stop. It was like the floodgates had opened and he needed to get it all off his chest once and for all. "The funeral was horrible... Worst day of my life, actually. We said goodbye to her in a hospital room. That  
would have been enough for me. But having to watch as they lowered her coffin into the ground..." He shuddered, shaking his head. "There's nothing more gruesome and final than that... " He took a deep breath before continuing. "Needless to say,  
our marriage didn't survive. I became this angry asshole, mad at the world, and my wife fell into such a deep depression, turning to alcohol and sleeping pills. We went on like that for a year, cohabiting but not interacting. I drank a bit myself,  
just to dull the pain, and began sleeping with other women...I hated who I had become and it killed me that i couldn't help her or bring her back... It just wasn't a good time and we were both in pretty bad shape...But then the outbreak  
happened and it was like here was a chance to start brand new. Create a whole new identity... So that's what I did."

"Your wife... Did she...turn?"

"I don't know...We had to evacuate my building at work and the police were herding us out of the city... I couldn't get back to the house to check... And as coarse as it sounds, a part of me didn't want to."

He fell quiet and Fiona closed her eyes again, replacing her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. She tried to digest everything he had told her. He had been through so much pain, that it was almost justifiable the person he became afterwards.  
Yet the terrifying psychotic man she and her friends had encountered that night in the forest clearing-that 'don't give a shit' cold-hearted bully who had supposedly killed numerous people in cold blood-was not the man lying here with her now.

It wasn't the man she had gotten to know.

He had shown her glimpses of the decent man he used to be. She knew he still lived in there somewhere. She wanted to think maybe she was bringing back the good in him.

And maybe just maybe she could convince him to...

Stop, Fiona. NO.

Don't even go there.

Not now.

Not yet.

She lifted her head off his chest and looked down at him. Those intense brown eyes which hid so much pain were staring up at her tenderly. She didn't know what she was feeling. It was a muddle of a thousand different emotions and it scared the hell  
out of her.

She barely knew him.

But she wanted to keep on getting to know him.

Yet she had to somehow find a way to do that without scaring him away.

"What are you thinking?" he murmured, tracing his fingers lazily up and down her back.

Panic surged up within her, never good at being put on the spot. But surprisingly, she came up with a sincere, honest answer, even if she conveniently omitted the rest. "Just... how your wife has probably been reunited with Sarah by now..."

Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought and he stubbornly blinked them away. Then he pulled her on top of him and guided her mouth down to his. He kissed her deeply, trying to drown out the emotional with something physical instead.

Physical was easy.

Emotions just complicated things.

And he had sworn once the apocalypse began, there would never be any room or place for emotions in his new life ever again.

It had been going perfectly for so long. He never had a problem with his new philosophy.

Until this blonde firecracker on top of him exploded into his life.

Physical was easy with her.

So easy.

But he couldn't block the emotions that came along with it no matter how hard he tried.

They had been there from the start and were only growing stronger each day.

He didn't want her to leave his side tonight, he didn't want to say goodbye in the morning, and he was already trying to figure out how and when he would be able to see her again.

He was fucked.

So fucking fucked.

Digging his fingers into her thighs, he murmured against her mouth, "I want you again."

Fiona smiled without breaking the kiss. "I can tell."

Then she slowly slid onto him, taking all of him inside her. He fit her so well and felt so good. She was afraid she was becoming addicted and no one after him would ever measure up.

What if there didn't have to to be anyone else? What if-

She scolded herself again for the foolish thoughts and began moving over him, slowly at first, then quickening the pace until she brought them both to another incredible climax.

Collapsing back down, she lay her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

She didn't care what he said.

She was spent. She needed a break.

Just a short one.

Call it a power nap.

Just to recharge her batteries so she could go another round or two.

Or three.

Smiling at the possibilities, she felt her thoughts become less coherent as she drifted off.

His heartbeat, strong and steady, lulled her right to sleep and she stayed that way until morning. 


	23. Chapter 23

As always, I appreciate the kind wordsand wonderful reviews! You guys are the best!Glad everyone is enjoying it! 

* * *

Negan woke in an empty bed.

The grey light of dawn was filtering through the blinds. He blinked in confusion and couldn't remember falling asleep. But he must have at some point because the night unfortunately was over.

And what a night it had been.

Reaching his arm out to the side, he ran his hands over the sheets.

They were cold.

Had it all been a dream like he had originally feared?

Impossible.

It had been much too real to be a dream.

Her intoxicating kisses, her soft sighs of pleasure, the salty taste of her tears... he could still smell the faint scent of her shampoo on the pillowcase.

How many times had they fucked, (not counting the oral and finger interludes)? Three? And after all of that, he was still waking up with morning wood? How was that even possible? What, was he eighteen again?

She certainly made him feel that way.

He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. At first he feared she had left without saying goodbye. But then he saw her jeans and underwear in a pile on the floor, smiling  
as he remembered how they got there. His smile grew even wider when he heard the shower running in the bathroom.

He threw off the sheets and made his way across the room.

He was about to make another fantasy of his a reality. 

* * *

Fiona was finishing up her shower when Negan opened the glass door. He leaned against the frame, naked and fully erect, and she watched his eyes hungrily appraise her body from top to bottom. He was grinning, and damn that smile was infectious, so  
she couldn't help but grin back at him.

"Morning,"she greeted him, pushing her wet hair off her face.

"'May I join you?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Well last time I got cursed at and called some unflattering names sooooo. ...figured I'd play it safe this time."

Fiona laughed and took his hand, pulling him inside and shutting the door behind him. "Things were different then."

Negan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Actually not so different because you wanted me that day. I could feel it. You pretended to be pissed but it was all a front." He captured her lower lip between his teeth and sucked gently,  
running his hands up her slick, wet body.

"Cocky bastard," she murmured against his mouth, before deepening the kiss.

"Sticks and stones, gorgeous," he murmured back, reminiscent of their conversation that day. "Just admit you wanted me."

"I hated you."

"You wanted me."

"Maybe not exactly then, but I definitely want you right... now." Fiona broke the kiss and let her hands trail down his body as she lowered herself to her knees in front of him. He was even more impressive at eye level-long, hard and thick- and  
whereas she used to feel apprehensive about this kind of interaction after her experience with Zander, now all she felt was excitement and desire. He was beautiful and nothing to fear. Besides, she owed him one after last night.

She wrapped her fingers around him and began caressing him in long strokes, up and down the length of him. Just as she was about to take him into her mouth, he took her face in his hands and stilled her. She looked up at him questioningly.

"You don't have to," he said softly. "After Zander... I know you said..."

"I know what I said," she said confidently. "And I'm over it now."

She couldn't begin to explain how his concern touched her. How many guys, when faced with a woman on heir knees in front of them, would stop that woman from pleasuring them? She certainly couldn't think of any. Yet here he was, trying to do just that.

"You sure?" he asked, still a bit uncertain.

Fiona flashed him a wicked grin. "You trying to talk me out of it?"

Finally he relaxed, smiled back at her, and moved his hands to her shoulders. "Carry on, then."

Taking hold of him again, she swirled her tongue slowly around his tip a few times before taking him into her mouth. She sucked, and stroked, and used her teeth and lips to pleasure him as  
unselfishly as he had pleasured her the night before. And she actually enjoyed it. He groaned loudly and she snuck a look up at him to see his head was thrown back and eyes were closed in ecstasy which did wonders for her self esteem because she always  
felt self-conscious while performing this particular task.

Negan was close.

She was too good, and for a moment he wondered how she got to be so good but then realized darkly he didn't want to know. The sight of her on her knees with his dick in her mouth was another image he never wanted to forget. Everything about her was  
so damn sexy and he was becoming painfully addicted. Not a good idea when they would probably never get alone time like this again.

She took him to the deepest part of her throat and he sucked in his breath, letting it out in an emphatic, "Fuuuuck, gorgeous."

He was about to blow his load and as much as he would have loved to come in her mouth, he knew this was his last hurrah for the day because he wasn't lasting very long. A harsh reminder that he was a lot older than eighteeneven though he felt  
like it when he had woken up earlier. And he wanted to bring them both to climax one last time.

He stilled her again and without words, lifted her up effortlessly in his arms and thrusted into her. She cried out as he filled her again and buried her face in his neck, holding onto him for dear life. His biceps strained as he supported  
the weight of her and he backed her up against the shower wall for leverage.

She was going to be a different kind of sore and definitely have bruises after this little episode , Fiona thought in a haze, as she kept making contact with the ceramic tiles. But the pain mixed with pleasure drove her senses wild and before she  
knew it, she was trembling in his arms and he was pumping the last of his seed into her.

He remained inside her even though he could already feel himself softening and just held her in that position, with her legs still wrapped around his waist, for a little while longer. Because once he let go of her, he knew that was it.

How the hell was he going to say goodbye?

How the hell was he going to survive each day without her?

"What am I gonna do without you gorgeous?" hewhispered softly against her ear.

She lifted her head off his shoulder when it had been resting and looked at him in confusion. "What?"

Shit, had he said that aloud!?

When he realized her confusion was because she couldn't hear him over the sound of the running water, he revised his statement. "When will I see you again?"

"We'll figure it out."

Even though he liked her optimism and her use of the word 'we', he raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Will we?"

"Fuck yes." She smiled and gave him a soft, chaste kiss, then slowly slid down the length of his body until her feet touched the floor again. She let the water wash over her, doing a quick rinse, then reluctantly stepped out of the shower and closed  
the door behind her to give him room.

She could have stayed in there with him forever.

She was so screwed. 

* * *

The night sky was turning gray as the sun slowly began to rise.

Daryl stood up, stretched and decided he needed to take a piss. He would have done it right off the front porch but there were people living in the house across the street and he didnt think they'd appreciate the show. So he unlocked the door and  
stepped inside, making his way down the hall to the bathroom. He hadn't done an overnight watch in a long time and had forgotten how exhausting it was. Maybe he was just getting old, but his body felt so sore and he was bone tired. He couldn't  
wait to climb into his own bed and sleep for the next few hours.

He stopped off in the kitchen afterwards and grabbed a glass of water. There was nothing in the way of food or snacks in the cabinets so he cursed his growling stomach and made his way back out through the living room. His eye caught a purple pice  
of cloth lying on the rug by the couch.

Walking over, he picked it up. It was a woman's t-shirt, size XS.

He only knew of one person who had a shirt that color and size.

But it couldn't be.

"What the fuck?" he muttered under his breath, turning his head to the stairs and listening for voices. He startled when he saw Fiona standing there, frozen, halfway down the stairs, staring at him with a wide-eyed deer in headlights look. She  
was wearing nothing but jeans and a see-through lace bra. Her hair was tousled and her lips swollen and there was no question as to what she had been doing here all night.

Fiona immediately covered her chest with one arm and reached for her shirt with the other. Daryl didn't need to say anything. The look of anger and betrayal in his eyes spoke volumes.  
Once she found her voice, all she could say was, "It's complicated, Daryl."

Daryl threw the shirt at her her angrily. "Fucking right it's complicated!You're sleeping with the enemy! What the fuck, Fiona!?"

She closed her eyes and didn't even know how to begin explaining things to him. Now wasn't the time anyway. Negan would be out of the shower any minute. "Just please go back outside and pretend you didn't see me." She turned her back to him  
and quickly slipped on her shirt.

"Right. Because that image of you half-naked will be so easy to erase. No wonder you fought Rick so hard on letting him stay here instead of the cell. You had this all planned, didn't you?"

"Whore," he added under his breath, not waiting for her answer.

Fiona slapped him across the cheek. "Get out. Now." His words stung more than she wanted to admit.

Daryl stood there staring her down, face to face. There were tears in those blue eyes which always used to look at him so fondly. Had he gone too far? No, he hadn't, he told himself angrily. Rick was like a brother to him so this was just as  
much a knife to his back as it would be to Rick once he found out. God, it was going to destroy him. It was going to destroy their community. How could Fiona be so thoughtless and selfish?

"You better get the fuck home," he spat out. "Sun's comin' up. Other people won't be so careful with your dirty little secret." Without giving her a chance to respond he stalked out, slamming the front door behind her.

Fiona lowered herself shakily to the bottom of the stairs and sat down, burying her face in her hands. She forced herself not to cry.

Negan called to her from the landing. "What's going on?"

"Daryl was inside. He saw me when I came down to get my shirt...He's pissed."

Negan cursed under his breath and came down to sit beside her. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's just that-" she couldn't even find the words to describe what a bad situation it now put her in.

"He'll run to Rick?" Negan guessed, unable hide the disappointment in his voice.

"No, I don't think he will...At least not right away... I don't know... I need to talk to him."

"But that's what you're worried about?"

Fiona turned to look at him. "Not at all. Rick and I are done.."

"Since when?"

"Last night. He threw me out."

"What a bonafide idiot." Negan shook his head at the thought. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought my being here made it obvious."

He shrugged. She made a valid point. "I guess it did."

Fiona stood up. "I should get going. The sun's coming up. And I have to check on Bryson."

Negan stood up too and shoved his hands into his pockets. Looking down at her, he had no idea what to say or do. Why did he suddenly feel like an awkward teenager? He pulled her into him and embraced her. His kiss was gentle and so sweet that  
even he was surprised at his own tenderness.

He was falling for this woman.

Actually, scratch that.

He already HAD.

"I don't know how and I don't know where or when, gorgeous, but I swear we'll do this again real soon."

"We have to." She cupped his face with her hand, looking deep into his eyes. Then she gave him one last quick peck on the lips and hurried off through the kitchen.

She left out the back door but it didn't matter now.

The damage had already been done. 


	24. Chapter 24

After stopping at Carol's for a quick breakfast and to change into a dry shirt, Fiona hurried over to the Infirmary. Denise was sitting at a table in the corner, reading a book. She looked up in relief when Fiona entered, fearing it would be Negan instead.

"How is he?" Fiona asked, making her way over to Bryson's stretcher to check his vitals.

"Not much change since last night. But no worse for the wear. Still with fever. I finished all the antibiotics he came with."

"His blood pressure is up at least."

"Yep. And he's still producing adequate urine."

"Has he woken up?"

"No."

"I'll have Negan make a supply run back this morning. Anything else you think we'd need?"

"Just some extra IV supplies in case his line falls out."

"Ok. Why don't you go home and get some sleep?"

Denise smiled wearily. "You don't have to tell me twice. I'm beat."

"Thanks for doing the overnight."

"You needed the rest more than me. Hope you got enough."

Fiona turned away so Denise couldn't see the flush she felt creeping up her cheeks at the reminder of how little rest she actually got last night. "I did. Thanks again."

"See you in a bit."

She left and Fiona pulled up a stool next to Bryson's bed. She took his hand in hers, it was warm at least, and squeezed gently. "Hey Bryson, it's Fiona. You're giving us quite the scare here, kid, so if you can hear me, please wake up and come back to  
us. Stella needs you. She loves you so much...Speaking of love, or lack of thereof, my boyfriend, the one I told you about...he broke up with me... and I'm not torn up over it... guess you're not surprised to hear that, right?" She let out  
a little chuckle. "We just... I dont know...If I really wanted to, I could have made it work, I guess... but the truth is I've been pining for someone else...someone you know very well, actually... I spent the night with him last night and he's  
not the man I thought he was... I'm falling hard for him, Bryson, and its scary as hell...because there's no future for us...not with this stupid war our communities have raged... I wish that..."

Fiona stopped talking when she heard someone open the door and step inside.

Rick.

She groaned inwardly. She wasn't ready to face him so soon and prayed he wouldn't be able to read the guilt that was probably written all over her face.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hi."

"Hey."

"How's he doing?"

"Not much better."

He came over to stand beside her. "Look, about last night, I said some things in the heat of the moment that I certainly didn't mean. I was just too wound up, what with Negan showing up, then you blowing up at me out in the street and the argument about  
putting him in the jail cell... You were right. I should have just let you go to Carol's and given us both time to cool off...Because I couldn't sleep last night, Fee. I lay awake and thought about us, what we've built together, how good it was before...well,  
before the shit hit the fan and I screwed up...There, I admit it. I screwed up big time and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry..."

Fiona stood up and walked away from him. Was he seriously trying to make amends? Now? After she spent the night with another man? Could things get anymore fucked up if they tried? "Not now, Rick, please. This isn't the time or the place..."

He stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "It seems there's never a good time lately." He gently turned her around to face him and placed both hands on the counter behind her, trapping her between his arms. "Look at me, Fee. Please."

She reluctantly lifted her gaze to his. She used to look deep into those green eyes while they made love and would think she had never seen anything so beautiful. But now those familiar eyes were full of pain and seemed so foreign to her. His thumb brushed  
her cheek and she was about to move away when she heard the door open.

Looking around Rick's shoulder she saw Negan enter with Daryl right behind him. She quickly stepped away from Rick but knew Negan had already seen them together.

"Well isn't this cozy," Daryl quipped, taking a seat and crossing his arms over his chest, as he smirked at Fiona. She shot him a dirty look in return then proceed to ignore him.

Negan walked over to Bryson and looked down at him, placing a hand on his chest. "How is he?" he asked Fiona, without meeting her eyes.

Fiona remained where she was, leaning against the counter, keeping as much distance from him as possible. "No worse, but not much better either."

"What do you need?"

YOU.

The inappropriate thought came to her out of nowhere and she felt her face growing warm again. She now knew every sculpted muscle which lay below his clothes on that tall, lean frame of his, and it was detrimental to her state of mind. It was also so  
hard to keep away from him when all she wanted to do was touch him.

He turned to look at her when she didn't answer. Fiona startled and finally met his eyes. Whereas Rick's eyes had become foreign to her, Negan's made her short of breath and felt like home. "I'm sorry. What?"

"What do you need? I'm going to run back home for a bit."

"Right...I'll..uh...make a list for Carla."

Daryl spoke up. "You seem off, Doc... You sleep alright last night?"

Negan shot Daryl an unamused glare and Daryl just glared right back at him. Daryl hadn't said two words to him on the walk over. He had still been fuming with rage over his discovery and was afraid if Negan made even one smartass comment, he would have  
killed him right then and there. But Negan had wisely kept his mouth shut.

"I did, Daryl. Sweet of you to ask, though." She flashed him a smug smile and then grabbed a pen and began making a list for Negan.

Rick watched everyone's interaction with the feeling he was missing something but was too tired and emotionally drained to ask about it at the moment.

Fiona handed Negan the piece of paper and met his eyes again. "Take your time. We have enough supplies until his antibiotics run out tonight."

"I won't be too long. I'll take care of some business and head right back."

"Let's go," Rick said, the voice of authority having returned again. He motioned to Negan towards the door. He wanted him gone. The sooner the better.

Negan followed and saluted Daryl on the way out, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Daryl flipped him off and stood up to leave as well.

"Wait. Please," Fiona called after him.

Daryl paused at the door but kept his back to her. "I'm exhausted and honestly don't care to hear your bullshit right now, okay? So save it for another time. Or for someone who's stupid enough to believe you. I'm outta here."

He walked out and Fiona followed, feeling helpless. She plopped down on the steps outside and watched Daryl walk off in one direction and Negan and Rick towards the other. Abraham opened the gate for them and she followed Negan's tall frame until he disappeared  
into his truck and sped off. 

* * *

Back at his house, Negan devoured a huge breakfast and downed two cups of coffee. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he started scrambling the eggs. He had certainly worked up an appetite between last night and this morning.

Forcing himself not to think of Fiona, which was hard to do because his thoughts always seemed to stray right back to her, he went upstairs, changed into a clean pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt. The weather had turned chilly again overnight.  
He grabbed his leather jacket on the way out.

The infirmary was empty and eerily quiet. He began restocking the crate he had brought back with him, but was getting confused with certain antibiotics. Why the fuck did they all sound the same? He was just about to go check in with Carla and ask for  
her help when she appeared in the doorway.

"Heard you were back, handsome. How's Bryson?"

"Not good. Still alive but...Not much better...I was just coming to get you, actually. How'd you know I needed you?"

She walked over to him and rubbed his back affectionately. "I have a sixth sense about these things. You know that." She took the paper from his hands. "Let's see what Fiona needs." She perused the list quickly then started pulling bottles off the  
shelf. "How is she by the way?" she asked casually.

"How's Stella?" Negan asked instead, purposely avoiding the question.

"As expected. She's hardly eating...Just worried sick... That's why I was really hoping you were bringing us some good news."

"Well he's still alive. So that's better than other news I could have delivered, right?"

Carla stopped what she was doing and eyed him curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Carla. I just want to finish up here, stop at Hilltop to pay them a quick visit and then head back to Bryson."

"What's going on at Hilltop?"

"Trevor said they fell short on their monthly contribution."

"The weather is getting colder, Negan. Crops won't last much longer."

"Thanks for the agriculture lesson."

"Are you getting snippy with me?"

"I just have a lot of my mind."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No."

"Anything a certain blonde doctor can help with?"

He shot her a no-nonsense look that could kill but Carla saw right through it. "I thought so," she said smugly.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. It's written all over your face."

He motioned to the crate impatiently. "We done here?"

"We're done," she said, pursing her lips in disapproval. "You WILL ask for my advice one day... And when you do, I promise not to say I told you so." She stood on her tiptoes and embraced him. "Be safe."

Negan hugged her back, expressing with his actions what he couldn't quite say with words. Then he picked up the crate and headed out. "I'll see you soon."

Carla watched him go, saying a silent prayer not only for Bryson but for Negan as well. 

* * *

Denise came back after lunch to relieve Fiona for awhile.

Instead of going home to Carol's for a bite to eat, she headed straight to Daryl's.

After he walked out on her earlier, it only made her more determined to set the record straight with him and also to find out where she stood and what he was planning to do with her little secret.

She was going to force him to listen to her side of the story, no matter what it took.

When she passed Rick's house, Carl was sitting on the porch with Enid and Judith. She waved to them and kept walking but cursed under her breath when she saw him pass the baby to Enid and run down to the street to catch up to her.

"You have to come back," he said desperately. "Whatever my dad said, he didn't mean it. He's just being an asshole. You know he gets like that sometimes."

Fiona held up a hand to stop him. "Carl, please. Don't talk about your dad like that. And this is between me and him so not to be blunt but stay out of it."

He narrowed his eyes accusingly. "I thought you cared about us. Me and Judith."

"I do. Very much. And it has nothing to do with you guys."

"Then make things right with him and come back home. Please. We need you."

His innocence that things could be resolved so easily as well as his desperation saddened her. He had no idea how complicated the situation really was. And she knew he saw her as a replacement for the mother he had lost. "I need to go take care of something  
right now, Carl. I told your dad we would talk later, okay?"

He seemed somewhat placated by her answer and nodded in understanding.

Fiona hurried off and began to get a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. If word of her and Negan actually got out, she knew she would no longer be welcome in this community. Everyone she cared about would spurn her. All the relationships she worked  
so hard to form would fall apart.

She was playing with fire. Hot, dangerous, deadly fire.

And she was in way over her head now.

Was it worth the risk?

The memory of Negan moving above her and inside of her, so strong and powerful yet tender at the same time, all the while looking deep into her eyes, sent a rush of adrenaline straight to her  
core, setting her heart aflutter.

She wanted and needed so much more of him.

So there was her answer.

Yes, it was worth every single risk. 


	25. Chapter 25

So I have about 6 chapters left before I hit my writers block wall. ? if anyone has any ideas about which way this story should go, please PM me because I'd love your feedback! I'm playing around with a few scenarios but nothing is really jumping out  
at me... 

* * *

The incessant sound of the ringing doorbell woke Daryl out of a deep sleep. He cursed under his breath and made his way downstairs to answer it.

"This better be fucking important." he muttered to himself. But when he opened the door and saw Fiona standing there, it only pissed him off even more. "NO," he said emphatically shaking his head. He tried to slam the door in her face but she jammed  
her foot in the way so he couldn't do it.

"I just want to talk, Daryl."

"And I just wanna fucking sleep. Is that too much to ask? I played babysitter to that asshole all night while you were inside fucking him!"

"Please let me in. It won't take long."

Daryl knew she wouldn't give up, so he reluctantly let her inside, figuring if he wanted to get back to sleep, hearing her out was the only way. "You've got five minutes so start talkin'." He walked into the kitchen and stood against the island counter  
with his hands crossed over his bare chest, scowling at her.

"Last night wasn't planned. I swear to you. Rick had thrown me out after another big fight and I went to stay at Carol's. I couldn't sleep. And I wanted to talk to Negan. So I jimmied the back lock. That's how I got in."

"You wanted to 'talk' to him?" He sucked his teeth skeptically. "Bout what?"

"Nothing specific... I got to know him during the time he kept me there. He's not the man everyone thinks he is."

"I don't give a shit. I know the man that threatened us and the man who's now exploiting us. And you're fuckin'naive if you don't see it, too."

"He saved my life, Daryl. One of the Saviors was raping me and then planned to kill me afterwards. But Negan killed him. One of his own men. For ME."

Daryl grunted in what was his only response. "That's the least he could do after raping you himself. "

"He never touched me."

His head shot up and his eyes bored into her. "What!?"

"You heard me. He never touched me."

"What the fuck!? Do you know how worried sick we were about you!? The thoughts that kept runnin' throughour heads when you were taken? And you're telling me he never touched you!? Fuckin' asshole! After everything he said to us! All the  
shit he talked, the way he disrespected you in front of everyone! That manipulative sonofabitch!"

"It was just a ploy to get what he wanted. And it worked I guess."

Daryl paused a moment and looked at her curiously. "So what the hell did you do with him then, play house?"

"I stayed in his house, yes, but slept in a separate room and just took care of Bryson. He got bit the morning after I was taken back there." She sank down on one of the counter stools and rested her chin in her hands. "Something happened after he  
saved me, Daryl...I watched him beat that guy to a bloody pulp and then he held me as I fell in and out of consciousness and he was crying-crying because he had been too late...It was one of the worst experiences of my life... I honestly thought  
I was going to die."

"So he saved you. Big deal. Did you fuck him as a thank you? Because, hell, I can think of a few times I put an arrow in a walker's head and saved you, too. You sure as hell didn't fuck me!"

Fiona rolled her eyes. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying."

"I think I'm hearin' you loud and clear."

"He didn't touch me while I was his prisoner! I got to know him instead! The man that he really is!"

"He's a KILLER!"

"SO ARE WE! But just like us, that's not all there is to him! He was kind to me! He protected me! He's had a tough past! He told me about his daughter, his wife, who Lucille was... He-"

Daryl slammed his hand down on the counter. "We've all had a tough past! We've all lost loved ones!"

"I'm not asking you to agree with me or to even accept the idea of him and I together, but I just didn't want you thinking it was all about a cheap fuck. That's not who I am and you should know that. I don't give myself to other people or let them  
see the real me that easily... It's just with him it's...different." She paused and added quietly, "I'm falling for him...I know it's the worst thing I could possibly do but it's out of my control."

"You have no future with him."

"Do we really have any future at all? Any of us? I mean if you stop and think about it, what are we doing here exactly?"

"Survivin'."

Fiona shook her head. "More like living in denial. Things aren't going to change! They are only going to get worse! There's no cure for this...disease or whatever it is! So just please let me live my life the way I choose."

Daryl fell quiet for a few moments trying to process everything she was telling him. It was so convoluted and so fucked up but as he knew from his experience with Beth, falling for someone was not something you could control. He had loved her, but  
had fought those feelings so hard and so long until it was too late and he never got the chance to tell her how he truly felt.

His voice hitched as he asked, "Does he care about you?"

Fiona shrugged. "A part of me wants to think he does...but...I honestly don't know."

"Why don't you ask him to leave us alone, then? Would he do that for you?"

Fiona wasn't surprised by the question because the same thought had come to her last night while lying in bed with him. Would he? She had no idea. It was much too soon to ask him such a favor anyway. Not when she didn't know where she stood or if  
he was feeling anything beyond just physical for her.

"I don't know," she whispered again. "But I'm hoping to get him to the point where he will say he would."

"It's risky, Fiona. He's going to end up hurting you."

"Maybe...Maybe not...Life is too fucking short nowadays to worry about things like that anymore. Besides, I've been hurt more than enough already. Rejection by a man is small potatoes."

Daryl cracked a thin smile at her comment. "How do you plan on seeing him again?"

"Hadn't thought that far yet. Guess I'd need an accomplice. And an alibi."

She looked at him hopefully but he shook his head emphatically. "Fuck no! You can't ask me to betray Rick like that. Keeping this secret is bad enough. I can't help you sneak out to go fuck that asshole. I CAN'T."

"What if the end justified the means and I could really get him to back off of us? Would you help me then?" She watched as his brow furrowed thoughtfully and he weighed his options. "You're thinking about it at least," she said half jokingly.

"Na, I ain't."

"I don't need an answer right away. Sleep on it."

"Fiona, NO."

"You know it could work, Daryl. We both had the same idea!"

"I was just thinkin' out loud."

"Well, keep thinking." She hurried to the door before he could protest. "Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep and we'll talk tomorrow."

Daryl grabbed her arm just as she got to the door and she spun around to face him. He stared at her for what seemed like ages before he finally spoke. "If he hurts you, I won't be able to live with myself."

She could see the concern and worry etched all over his face. She knew he cared about her but didn't realize just how much until right now. "He's not going to." And as she said it aloud, she actually believed it. "He's kind of a softy deep down. Sort  
of like you." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for listening."

"Fiona?"

She stopped on the porch steps and looked back at him questioningly.

"What's this gonna do to Rick?"

She paused, considering the question. "The end justifies the means remember? The group -our family- has always come first to him. That's why he didn't fight harder when I was taken or give in to Negan's demands immediately to get me back.  
You know it and I know it. So I think he will be okay. Besides, he broke up with me last night anyway. So I'm free as a bird."

She spun around with her arms outstretched to demonstrate her point but Daryl could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes. And he suddenly felt sorry for her. Not counting her past, which unfortunately he knew nothing about, she had been through so  
much in the short time he had known her. She had built something with Rick, something meaningful, but then she was taken prisoner and it all fell to shit. Now she was having all these confusing emotions and her life was turned upside down again.

Was her sleeping with Negan just a way to get back at Rick?

He sure hoped not.

And from everything she had just told him, it didn't sound like that was the case.

But he couldn't seem to fully dismiss the possibility.

"He loves you, Fiona."

"He sure has a funny way of showing it then."

"Just make sure this is what you really want." She was walking away down the street so he yelled after her, "Because there won't be any going back! Not with Rick! You know him! You burn that bridge and you're toast!"

Fiona just lifted her hand in acknowledgement but kept on walking.

Daryl cursed and plopped down on the steps.

Who was he kidding?

Of course he was going to help her.

How could he not? She needed someone to protect her and watch her back in case things got ugly. There was no way she could pull this off on her own.

And besides, he could never seem to say no to her. 


	26. Chapter 26

No ideas!? Someone? Anyone!? Lol. Even the littlest thing may jog my imagination. So hit me with your best shot! Please? 

* * *

When Negan approached the Alexandria gate, he saw it already being opened for him and chuckled at the irony of such an eager welcome. But the smile was quickly wiped off his face when he saw Abraham motioning him to hurry up. He rolled down his window  
to hear him yelling, "Get to the infirmary NOW!"

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. Just GO!"

Negan jumped out of the truck, didn't bother grabbing the crate with supplies and raced down the street. He burst through the door and Rick was on him in an instant, in his face, seething with anger.

"Tell her to stop!"

Negan looked past him and saw Fiona administering chest compressions to Bryson. His heart dropped to his stomach and he whispered a faint, "No," unable to believe what he was seeing.

Bryson was dead.

Rick poked him in the chest. "Hey! I said tell her to stop, dammit! She's been doing this for the better part of the hour! She's gonna pass out!"

Negan crossed the room approaching the stretcher. Fiona's back was to him and she was oblivious to his presence because she was still pumping hard on Bryson's chest with the palm of her hands. He didn't care who was watching or what they were going  
to think or say. He just stepped up behind her, wrapped his arms around her arms to still her and spoke softly in her ear. "Fiona, it's okay. He's gone."

When Fiona felt Negan's presence and heard that soothing voice, she stopped immediately and collapsed into his arms. He caught her and embraced her tightly. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed against his chest. "I couldn't save him... I'm so...sorry."

"Shh..it's okay." He smoothed her hair and kept talking, trying his best to soothe her. "You did so much for him... Shit, you kept him alive all this time. He should have never even lasted this long."

"Stella..." she moaned.

"Stella already knows...She's been preparing for this... I talked to her earlier. She's a survivor, though. She'll be okay."

Rick had seen enough.

He couldn't process why he had been trying unsuccessfully for the better part of an hour to convince Fiona to stop performing CPR, yet when Negan showed up, all it took was one touch and one word for her to comply. And to make matters worse, she was  
clinging to him and he was comforting her and they looked way too comfortable with each other.

He stepped up to Negan and spoke in a low, no-nonsense voice. "Get your hands off of her, take the body and get the hell out of here. Now."

It was as if Fiona suddenly realized where she was and who was around and she looked up at Negan through tear- stained eyes then reluctantly stepped away from him. She wiped her face, pulled the elastic band from her hair and tucked it all back up  
in another messy bun, then said wearily, "Can somebody please give him a knife?" as she walked out the door.

Nobody had a dagger or knife but Daryl handed Negan one of his arrows. He had been about to leave on a scavenging mission when Rick had frantically called him into the infirmary to get him to help with Fiona. But even he couldn't get her to stop or  
talk her down.

Nobody had been able to reach her.

Except that motherfucker.

Daryl couldn't deny he had a way with her, though. And whether it was just an act, he couldn't quite say, but damn him, he had been tender and affectionate. Maybe Fiona had more power over him than she even realized. The thought gave him a small sliver  
of hope until he saw the murderous look in Rick's eyes as he watched their interaction.

He watched now as Negan laid a hand on Bryson's chest and stared at him silently for a few minutes. Then he firmly drove the arrow through his skull, ending his life for good. Denise handed him a sheet and Negan wrapped him up. When he saw Rick wasn't  
making any move to help, Daryl walked over and took Bryson's legs. Negan glanced at him in surprise, muttered a thank you and then lifted him under the arms. The two of them carried him out the door and down the street to the gate.

Negan was disappointed when he didn't see Fiona outside the infirmary. Would she have really disappeared without saying goodbye? But then he saw her standing with Abraham and relaxed.  
When Abraham saw them coming he opened the gate and Fiona hurried to open the back door of the truck.

They gently slid the body across the backseat and Negan closed the door, thanking Daryl again as he walked off. Daryl didn't even acknowledge him. Fiona looked up at Negan, well aware of Abraham watching them as well as Rick who had joined him by  
the gate with arms crossed over his chest.

"Get back inside, Fiona!," he called. "Now!"

"Does he always tell you what to fucking do?" Negan grumbled, glaring over at Rick.

Fiona shrugged. "He tries. But I don't always listen...So when will you be back?"

Negan shrugged. "Three weeks. Give or take. Usually once a month for pickups."

"Ok then."

She started to walk away because the longer she stood there, the tougher it would be to leave. It was so hard being close to him but not being able to touch him. She wondered what would happen if she just jumped in the truck and drove off with him.  
Would Rick and her friends take chase? Where would she go, though? Negan couldn't bring her back to the Sanctuary. It was a no-win situation.

"That's it?" he asked, affronted by her casual goodbye.

She paused and reluctantly turned back around. "What else do you want?"

"What do I want?" He looked at her with those intense eyes which always seemed to penetrate straight through to her core. "I want to fucking take you in my arms, hold you tight and kiss you till you need to come up for air, then lay you down and fuck  
you again until you come so hard you're screaming my name."

Fiona closed her eyes to the image his words created. Her whole body and soul was aching for him and it was so painful knowing there was nothing she could do about it.

"So make it happen."

He cocked his head in interest. Was she challenging him?

"What was that, gorgeous?"

"You heard me. Tell me when and where. I'll be there."

She flashed him a brief flirty smile which got his blood boiling and the wheels in his head turning.

"End of this week, Friday. I'm doing an early morning pickup at Hilltop. There's a gas station about five miles north up route 15. I'll pick you up there around noon."

Fiona was momentarily stunned by the definite plans he was offering her and didn't know how the hell she was going to get there but vowed to find a way. She nodded in agreement and turned to walk off. "Please send Stella my condolences."

"Hey."

She turned around again.

"Thank you for everything you did for Bryson."

"It was all for nothing."

"You gave him some extra time with Stella."

"Which means what in the long run? Absolute horseshit."

"C'mon gorgeous, don't be like that." Negan could tell she was taking the loss pretty hard and hated this newfound pessimism of hers. It all started with Zander and then escalated after his people forced her out and wouldn't let her take care of Bryson.

"Now who's telling me what to do?"

With that she walked away and he watched, helplessly, for a moment. Then he hopped in his truck and sped off, not wanting to see her be manhandled or yelled at by Rick again for fear he would finally lose his cool.

Abraham closed the gates once Fiona was back inside the community.

"You did everything you could, Fiona," he told her quietly. "He was in real bad shape."

She nodded reluctantly. "Thanks for bringing him inside when he got here."

Abraham shot an uneasy glance at Rick who was still scowling. Rick hadn't reprimanded him for that yet but he knew it was only a matter of time. But Rick seemed to have bigger problems on his hands at the moment. Like trying to figure out why  
Fiona and Negan were so chummy. Everyone had been talking about it over the past 24 hours and even though it was all speculation and gossip, what Abraham just witnessed now between the two of them made him nervous. So he could only imagine what  
it was doing to Rick.

"Why don't you go get some rest? You sure look like you could use it."

It was only once Abraham mentioned it that Fiona realized how exhausted she really was. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, had woken up early to sneak out of the house and then had been working on Bryson the rest of the time. She desperately  
needed a breather.

Alone.

She heard Rick say something quietly to Abraham before he hurried to catch up with her.

"If you even think about lecturing me right now I swear to GodI'll punch you." She spoke quietly but firmly without stopping to look at him. "I know in my heart I did the right thing by helping that boy and if you don't agree then that's on  
your conscience."

"I'm not gonna lecture you."

"Then please leave me alone. I told you last night I needed some space, I repeated it again this morning in the infirmary and I'm saying it a third time now. I need to sleep, Rick. I'm exhausted."

"He's evil, Fee." Rick couldn't even stand to speak his name aloud. "You haven't heard half the shit I have about the things he's done. I'm not gonna ask why you seem to be close to him because I don't want to know the answer. He may show you a different  
side of himself but a tiger doesn't change its stripes. Remember that."

"Thought you weren't lecturing me."

"It's not a lecture. Call it more of a warning."

And with that, he stalked off. 


	27. Chapter 27

Thanks for all the feedback! Just to clarify, I don't plan on ending the story anytime soon. Having way too much fun writing it! Figured this would be a good place to leave you for the weekend ;-)

StrangersAngel- I LOLd to your mention of 'romantic stuff and thangs." It's allcoming very soon again

Alice- I'm not familiar with the Whisperers. Are they in the comics? Who are they? And I didplayaround with the idea of Negan getting hurt when I first started writing... Great minds think alike ;/)

deadcrush-a lot more "smuttasticReunions" to come, no worries. Just wrote another one yesterday and love it! And I'm so in love withmy JDM Negan too. 3

McKayla-I just wrote a walkers sceneearlier in the week! I knew my story needed some action!

Rasha007- I promise to get myself (or my characters?)out of the 'mess' I created. Lol. 

* * *

The week dragged.

Rick not only kept his distance, obeying Fiona's request, but went even further by giving her the silent treatment whenever their paths happened to cross. She didn't really mind it and actually preferred things that way, but the hardest part was  
trying to keep Carl at bay. He kept pressuring her to talk to his dad, and each day she didn't move back into the house was another day he desperately tried to plead his case.

Fiona kept busy with Carol who taught her some basics of cooking and baking. She was still horrible at it and ended up burning every recipe she attempted. She was grateful mid week when Aaron came down with a bad case of gastroenteritis because  
at least she had a patient for 24 hours. After some IV fluids and Zofranhe perked back up and thankfully didn't spread the bug to anyone else in the community.

Fiona managed to somehow convince Daryl to drive her to the gas station for her rendezvous with Negan. He bitched and moaned for a few days but when Friday rolled around, he was out in front of Carol's house right on time waiting for her on his  
bike. He had told Rick they were going on a run because he had passed another pharmacy earlier in the week and needed Fiona's expertise on what supplies would be helpful. Rick didn't argue or give him a hard time, which he used to do in the  
past whenever Fiona tried to go out with them on a run. He was always so overprotective of her but now he seemed to not give a damn anymore.

Daryl couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

Fiona came out carrying a backpack over her shoulder and wearing jeans and a black zip up hoodie. Her hair was pulled back and she had a light dusting of makeup on her face but nothing over the top. At least she wasn't trying TOO hard, Daryl thought  
sourly.

She climbed onto the back of his bike, straddling it, then wrapped her arms around his waist. She smelled good. And felt good, too. And dammit, he couldn't seem to rid his mind of the image of her standing half-naked on the stairs wearing that  
sexy bra.

"You sure about this?" he asked, turning his head slightly to address her.

Fiona didn't even have to think about it. "Let's go."

Daryl revved the engine and guided the bike along the street in a slow crawl. When Abraham saw them coming, he opened the gate. "Be safe out there," he called to them and Fiona waved as they rode past.

Once they cleared the gate, Daryl floored it and they sped off.

Fiona loved the speed and the feel of the wind in her hair. She rested her head against Daryl's back,closed her eyes and thought about Negan. She wasn't nervous at all. There was no reason to be. All she felt was an electric sort of  
anticipation. He had been on her mind all week and her body was going through a weird sort of withdrawal. She craved everything about him-his voice, his smile, his kiss, his touch. And all she wanted was to be back in his arms and she honestly  
didn't care if it was in the backseat of his car.

As they approached the gas station, Daryl slowed the motorcycle and Fiona felt her heart lurch when she saw Negan's black truck already parked there.

He was waiting.

For her.

This was nothing more than a glorified booty call but whereas the old Fiona would have been mortified by the idea, post apocalyptic Fiona had no reservations.

Or regrets.

Negan had the window rolled down with his elbow resting out and scowled when he saw who and what was Fiona's means of transportation. Jealousy quickly transformed into desire when he realized just how sexy she looked straddling that fucking bike.  
Maybe he needed to rethink his own set of wheels.

He watched as she got off the motorcycle, pulled the rubber band from her hair and shook out her windblown locks. She said something to the redneck he couldn't quite hear then walked over to the driver's side of his truck. "Hi."

His eyes crinkled warmly as he smiled. "You made it."

"I had to. You called my bluff."

"Bluff?" He feigned shock at her choice of words. "Is that what you're calling it?"

Fiona smiled knowingly but didn't respond. "What time should Daryl meet us back here because he's obviously my ride home."

"Before dark," Daryl growled, answering for Negan.

Negan grinned at him condescendingly. "You don't call the shots, tough guy." He turned to Fiona. "What time would you like to be home, gorgeous?"

How was she supposed to answer that question? Definitely not before morning but she knew that wasn't possible. "By 6, I guess. We have a rule about scavenging missions never lasting past dark. They will get worried. Not to mention suspicious."

"Damn your rules," he muttered jokingly under his breath. "Ok. 6 it is." He motioned to the passenger seat with his head. "Hop in then. We don't have much time."

Fiona thanked Daryl who still looked very upset and uncomfortable over the whole situation. "Just be careful," he muttered under his breath. "I'll be back by 6. You better not keep me waitin."

She nodded in understanding then climbed into Negan's truck. He was wearing a white Tshirt and jeans and his leather jacket was strewn across the seat. She pushed it aside and sat down.

Negan flashed Daryl one last triumphant grin before driving off.

Turning his attention to the beautiful woman sitting beside him he said, "God you're a sight for sore eyes." It was hard for him to tear his gaze from her to focus on the road in front of him. "How's things?"

Fiona shrugged. "Same old. Pretty dull week. Tried baking some cookies but it was a major fail. That's about it."

Negan chuckled at the thought, imagining the look of frustration on her pretty face when the recipe didn't come out as planned. He knew she was a perfectionist. He saw it in everything she did for Bryson. So the fact that she could sew up arteries  
in a man's arm but not follow a simple recipe must have irked her to no end.

"Cookies are overrated."

Now it was Fiona's turn to chuckle. "No, they really aren't. Not if you have a sweet tooth like I do."

"Do you, now?" He looked back over at her, interested. "Would have never guessed it.  
So what's your weakness? If you could have any dessert right now, what would it be?"

"I told you I don't like this game."

"Tell me."

"No."

"I'll turn this truck around and send you home."

She looked over at him and smirked. With utmost confidence she said, "No you won't."

When he saw that seductive, flirty smile he cursed. "Fuck. You're right. Ok I won't. Just tell me though. Please?"

Fiona gasped, feigning shock. "Is the all and powerful Negan actually begging for something?"

"Don't you worry. Roles will be reversed very soon, gorgeous. And believe me, if you don't play nice, now, I'll won't be so obliging later." He shot her a dangerously sexy grin and her stomach fluttered in anticipation.

"Entenmann's chocolate donuts," she answered, giving in to him as always.

"In the fridge of course," he added with a smile.

She looked at him, mouth agape. Either he was reading her mind or they had more in common than she realized.

"You tryin' to catch flies?" he teased.

"I... I just thought I was the only one who liked them that way... Love how the icing cracks when you bite into it." She closed her eyes, remembering the taste and sensation and felt her mouth begin to water. "Everyone used to think I was nuts."

"Same here."

"Damn they were so good. With a glass of cold milk." Fiona broke out of her dessert reverie because it was making her hungryand changed the subject. "How'd it go at Hilltop?"

Negan paused before answering. "It went."

"What did you have to do there?"

"Business."

She looked over at him suspiciously. "That's all I get?"

"That's it, gorgeous. You're still part of the enemy team, at the end of the day. Why the sudden interest in politics?"

"Because your dictatorship affects my life, too."

"Dictatorship?" He laughed at her choice of words.

"Isn't it? You're telling people what to do and they have no choice but to obey."

"Oh, there's always a choice. Just some options have more savory consequences than others."

Fiona muttered something under her breath and realized she was getting nowhere. She needed to pick this battle with him some other time. Like she told Daryl last week, it was way too soon to start asking him for favors. Especially of that caliber.

"So where are we going?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Somewhere private."

"How much longer?" She didn't want to admit it aloud but felt a bit uneasy at the thought of being too far from Alexandria in case anything happened. She felt safe with Negan. He wasn't the problem. It was theWalkers and other strange people  
which made her nervous because they were so unpredictable.

"Why? I got you all hot and bothered already?"

Fiona laughed under her breath. "Easy boy. You're good. But not that good."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow and pulled over onto the side of the road, stopping short. He got out of the truck and walked around to her side. Opening the passenger door, he grabbed her waist, turning her body to face him and spread her thighs,  
positioning himself between them. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her, hard. She opened her mouth eagerly, letting his tongue probe deep. He caught her lower lip between his teeth then let his lips trail down her jawline to the  
side of her neck, finding the sensitive spot just below her earlobe. He nibbled and sucked, his few days' worth of stubble tickling her skin. Fiona's head rolled back and she let out a soft moan.

"You like that, gorgeous?" he murmured against her neck.

"Mmmmm." She ran her hands through his hair, tugging him closer.

His hand squeezed her thigh and moved up her jeans to rest between her legs. He began rubbing with just the slightest pressure in just the right spot and she arched her hips to meet him.

"Hot and bothered yet?" His mouth returned to hers, not allowing her to respond. He captured her lips again in another searing kiss as he popped open the button on her jeans. Slipping his hand down below the waist of her underwear, he got his  
answer when he felt her slick folds. "Thought so."

Fiona dug her fingertips into his biceps, gasping when he inserted two fingers deep into her. She clenched her walls around him, thrusting her hips eagerly to meet his every caress. A quick fire was burning in her belly and he already had her  
right on the edge of orgasm. "Don't start something you can't finish, you cocky bastard," she challenged playfully, stubbornly forcing her body to hold out. What she really wanted was for him to take her, right there and then. She was dying  
for him to fill her up like he did so well, the way he fit inside of her so perfectly.

"Oh, I'll finish it." Negan pulled back just long enough to flash that lethal smile at her while admiring the heavy lidded look of desire mixed with frustration on her beautifully flushed face. "I'm just gonna make you wait for it."

He removed his hand and Fiona fought back a whimper. But she recovered quickly enough to grab that same hand and bring his two fingers to her mouth. Taking them deep, she sucked off her juices, slowly swirling her tongue around them in a circular  
motion. Watching him the whole time, she saw his eyes darken as they bore into hers and felt his breath quicken. When she released him, she ran her tongue across her lips and looked down at his crotch, smiling victoriously when she saw his  
obvious erection straining against his jeans.

"Just making sure you know that two can play your little game," she whispered seductively.

Negan's hand grabbed the back of her head and he guided her into him for a rough kiss. He devoured her lips, not holding anything back, and she matched his strength and pace until they both had to come up for air.

"You're in big trouble, gorgeous," he growled breathlessly. "Just warning you ahead of time."

With one last smile, he retreated back to the driver's side and slid behind the wheel. Then he sped off again with a newfound sense of urgency, needing to get where they were going and fast. 


	28. Chapter 28

They drove for ten more minutes before Negan turned down an unmarked dirt road.

There were no signs, no landmarks, nothing but trees surrounding them on every side. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, though, and made a few more turns until a small house appeared before them at the end of the dirt road. It would have been  
a cozy cottage back in its day, with its shingled roof and wrap-around porch. But now it was ramshackle, with half of it burnt from a fire of some sort. Fiona wondered briefly about the family who had lived there and what kind of tragedy had fallen  
upon them. The place seemed clear of Walkers, but it still didn't seem like a very secure or safe, let alone clean place to have their rendezvous.

Booty call, Fiona, she reminded herself smugly. Just call it like it is.

"What do you think?" Negan asked her, eagerly awaiting her reaction.

Fiona hesitated, trying to find the most tactful response without hurting his feelings. He had obviously given their meeting a lot of thought and she didn't want to burst his bubble. "It's... nice," she said, forcing a smile. "Definitely...private."  
She was still eying the dilapidated cottage and trying to find some saving grace in it, some positive quality that he obviously saw himself.

At first Negan was confused by her subdued reaction. He had been expecting her to be as floored as he was when he had first stumbled upon it a month ago. But when he followed her gaze and saw she was staring at the house itself, he realized his mistake  
and chuckled aloud. "Hey gorgeous?" he said, gently leaning over to nudge her shoulder. She turned to look at him and he motioned with his head and eyes upward and to the right.

That's when she saw it.

The large wooden structure suspended in mid air between four trees.

it was the most elaborate tree house she had ever seen.

Her mouth dropped open in shock as she admired the architectural beauty of it. It had an actual door, a large picture window made of glass, a small deck off the side, and a retractable ladder.

"Wow," she breathed, still a bit speechless. "That's...incredible!" She was in such a shocked stupor that she didn't realize he had walked around to her side and opened the door.

He was standing there, with his hand outstretched, smiling and waiting for her.

She smiled back at him and allowed him to escort her down from the truck. He didn't release her hand, though, and instead laced his fingers through hers as he led her across the lawn. Lucille dangled from his other hand and she was glad he brought the  
bat along for protection. It didn't make her squeamish, even knowing the horrible acts it had supposedly taken part in committing. But then remembering how it had saved her life, she reminded herself there were always two sides to every story. And  
she would give Negan the benefit of the doubt until he proved her wrong.

Which, deep in her heart, she hoped would never happen.

At the base of the ladder he stepped aside and motioned for her to climb up. "After you."

"Why, so you can stare at my ass?" she teased.

"Of course. Besides, mine's not much to look at."

Fiona laughed as she put her foot on the first rung and began to climb up the ladder. She stepped onto the small deck and dropped her backpack on the floor. "I still can't get over this," she gushed, walking over and resting her elbows on the edge, looking  
out over the forest. "How long do you think it took to build something like this?"

Negan pulled up the ladder, securing it on the deck. From his experience, zombies didn't know how to climb, but he wasn't taking any chances. Then he stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulled her into him. "Don't know, gorgeous,"  
he murmured, returning his lips to her neck. "I'm not a fucking architect. But I do need to fuck you soon or else."

"Or else what?" She turned in his arms and her mouth found his lips.

"You don't wanna know." He broke their kiss and led her inside.

It was a decent sized room, and whoever it belonged to had added small touches here and there to make it as cozy as possible. There was a rainbow throw rug in the center of the floor, a rocking chair near the big window, and a few paintings of colorful  
seascapes on the walls. A small bookcase held a smattering of paperbacks and on top of the wooden desk in one corner was an unfinished charcoal drawing.

Fiona's eyes strayed to the opposite corner of the room where a collection of big, fluffy comforters and blankets were arranged in a makeshift bed with a few pillows strewn in among them. Her heart skipped a beat and she knew that inviting addition was  
probably not part of the original decor.

"So how many women have you brought here before me?" she wondered aloud.

Negan took her back into his arms and slowly slid down the zipper on her hoodie. "Does it matter?" he asked huskily, pulling it off her arms and tossing it aside. She was wearing a black camisole and red bra straps peeked out from beneath.

Fiona glanced up at him and saw he had that same intense look of desire in his eyes which he got whenever he wanted her. And he wanted her now, she knew. She wanted him, too.

So, no, it didn't matter.

She was living only in the present. The past was insignificant.

Her only answer was grabbing the hem of his Tshirt and tugging it up over his head. She let her hands roam over his bare chest, admiring it in daylight for the first time. His skin was hot, his muscles hard and each tattoo was a beautiful work of art.  
She pressed her body against his, loving the feel and strength of his erection and knowing she was the cause of his excitement.

Her fingers eagerly went to his belt but he stopped her, "No way, gorgeous. You're all mine first."

He kissed her while tugging down the straps of her camisole to reveal a red push up bra adorned with black flowers along the edges. "Don't tell me he picked this one out for you too," he muttered jealously, running a finger along her cleavage.

"He did," Fiona taunted. "You like it?"

"Very much," he said, his mouth caressing the swells of her breasts peeking out from the top. "But he better never touch you. Ever." He didn't even give her a chance to protest because the jealous thought fueled his desire further and his  
kisses and touches became harder, hungrier as he couldn't get to her fast enough. He managed to get her jeans off only to find a matching red panty with black flowers beneath. "Shoulda known," he said, smiling, his hands sliding around to squeeze  
her ass before hoisting her up into his arms.

"It's all for you," she whispered in his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

Negan's possessive nature caused him to thrill at her words. He didn't want to admit he wanted her all to himself. Because in general, want or need implied weakness. And he swore he would never be that vulnerable again. Not after all the pain he suffered  
losing his daughter and then his wife.

But even if he didn't admit it aloud, he was already fucked. Because Fiona had done something to him. Touched him deeper than anyone had in a really long time. She was his drug, breathing new life into him, and he couldn't imagine being without her now.

He lay her down on her back in the soft sea of blankets and covered her body with his. "So what's the deal with you and Rick?" he asked in between kisses as his hands roamed restlessly over her curves.

"I told you we are done. He kicked me out last week."

"So you haven't fucked him?"

"Not since the day before you kidnapped me."

"Didn't need specifics," he growled sourly.

"You asked."

"Sorry I did."

"Did you bring me here to talk?" she asked, exasperated, guiding his head down to her breasts which were still frustratingly restrained by her bra.

Fiona felt the rumble over her chest as he chuckled. "No. I brought you here to scream. And gorgeous, I'm gonna make you scream so fucking loud for me." He unsnapped her bra and slid it off her shoulders, cupping her breasts in his hands.

She sucked in a breath as his thumbs skimmed her nipples. "I can't scream. Walkers will hear me. They'll surround the tree and we'll be trapped."

"No walkers around here. They cleared this area awhile ago."

"How do you know?"

"Just a feeling. Haven't run into any each time I've come up here."

"When did you find this place?"

"Little over a month ago."

He could see the question from earlier was still written on her face. And something inside him softened as he found he wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to be open and honest with her.  
She deserved it. Especially after everything she had put up with from him.

Sliding his lips back up over her jaw, he rested them by her ear. "No one has been here but you. There actually hasn't been anyone in my bed since I kidnapped you."

"Thought it wasn't kidnapping."

His head shot up and looked down at her, somewhat affronted. "Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you," Fiona answered matter of factly, biting back the urge to smile at his reaction.

"It took a big fucking set of balls for me to say it."

"What? That you haven't fucked anyone since you met me?"

"Yes."

She could have sworn his cheeks colored beneath his stubble. God, she was falling for this man. She was in big trouble.

"Maybe the opportunity just hasn't presented itself."

"Oh there have been plenty of opportunities, gorgeous. Make no mistake about that. But no one does to me what you do. And I haven't wanted or needed anybody since I met you."

"Well, thanks. I think."

"Are you fucking with me?"

When she couldn't hold it back any longer, her lips curled up into a wide grin. "I couldn't help it. Was that tough-guy Negan getting all soft and sentimental?"

"Soft? Not me," he growled, grinding his hips against her to prove his point. She tried to undo his belt but he stopped her again. Tracing his fingers down the side of her neck, he smiled mischievously. "You have the start of a nice hickey there.  
I need to finish my masterpiece."

"No!" Fiona gasped. "You can't!"

Because how the hell was she going to explain coming back from a supply run with a hickey on her neck?

"Oh I canand I will. This is me claiming you. You're mine, gorgeous? Got it? All fucking mine."

Before she could answer, his lips attacked her neck, sucking hard and hungrily, driving to her to the edge of a pleasurable pain. She fisted his hair and moaned softly as the ache between her legs began to intensify.

She was his now. She didn't mind the label.

She had somehow conquered the impenetrable Negan. Made him possessive. Made him vulnerable. Made him care about something other than himself. Realizing the power she now had over him, sent a surge of desire straight to her core.

She wanted him so badly. And if he didn't bring her to climax soon she was going to scream.

Even though she told him she wouldn't.

"If you don't fuck me now, I'm gonna do it myself," she panted, making a show of lifting her hand and moving it down between her thighs.

He grabbed both her hands, stopping her, and pinned them above her head. "As hot as that would be to watch, not today, gorgeous. I said I was gonna torture you-I'm a man of my word. We do things MY way. So keep those hands where I can see 'em." A dimpled  
smile accompanied the warning. Then his mouth began trailing hot kisses back down her neck, over her breastbone and across her navel. He removed her underwear and when his tongue slipped between her folds, she sighed in contentment. His fingers circled  
her thighs as he lapped up her juices and she writhed restlessly beneath his touch. Once his teeth grazed her clit and his lips closed around it, sucking gently, her whole body exploded in a fabulous toe curling orgasm.

Negan wiped his mouth and smiled as he watched the pleasurable tremors wrack her body. Her eyes were still closed, head thrown back and her breathing was ragged, and she just looked so beautiful in that moment that he felt his heart strings give a little  
tug.

As if it was saying hey, I'm still here. Remember me?

He lay back down on his side next to her, propped up on an elbow.

Fiona pulled one of the blankets up over her body and turned to face him. "Hi," she said, still a bit drunk from the pleasure he had just delivered.

"How ya doin'?" He was still smiling. He couldn't help it. It was a disease.

"Good." She let out a self-conscious laugh. It was a bit unnerving the way he was gazing at her. This was supposed to be a physical thing between them, or so she thought. Yet she was feeling things-emotions- she knew she shouldn't be. And apparently  
he was, too. First that talk about him claiming her. And now he had this look in his eyes similar to one she used to see whenever Rick looked at her.

As silly as it sounded, it gave her butterflies.

"How about you?" she asked.

"I'm just perfect," he said in that slow drawl she loved so much.

"Are you?"

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and continued to admire her. "Mmmmhmmmm."

"When can I return the favor?"

"I'll let ya know."

"You know you want it."

"I certainly do."

"Sooooo?" She reached over and attempted for the third time that afternoon to undo his belt. And finally, this time, he let her. Her fingers deftly unbuttoned his jeans in one swift maneuver and she dragged them down over his hips, making sure to take  
his boxers along for the ride. His cock sprung out in all its hardened glory. He was still excited which meant he still wanted her. Fiona didn't know why she was suddenly having such doubts but seeing him so ready for her quelled them all in one shot.  
She felt herself getting turned on again and couldn't wait to feel him inside of her.

She ran her palm over his chest then down his taut abdomen following the trail of dark hair that ended between his legs. She curled her fingers around him and stroked him a few times. Lifting herself up, she let the blanket fall off of her and then  
leaned over him, kissing his mouth. "You're so beautiful," she whispered. "You know that?"

He deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers, while his hands grasped her hips and pulled her body over his. "I do now." She teased him by rubbing her wet center back and forth over the length of him. "God, I love how you're always so fucking  
wet for me."

"You drive me crazy," she murmured in his ear before lowering herself onto him.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, digging his fingers into her thighs. He should have never held out so long because he was ready to burst any minute.

"You held out too long didn't you?" she teased, reading his mind as well as his body language.  
"That's what you get for torturing me so."

"I can fight it."

"Oh really?" As soon as she began riding him, he cursed and grabbed her hips, stilling her.

"Slow, gorgeous."

"Can't handle it?"

Eyebrows furrowed as he glared at her playfully. "I'm thinking of you, here."

"Don't, tough guy. I already got mine and it was fabulous." She leaned over to brush a quick kiss of gratitude on his lips. "Now stop being stubborn and let go." She began moving over him again, slowly at first per his request. She loved watching his  
head loll back, eyes close and jaw slacken as waves of pleasure washed over his face. And she loved being the one to provide that pleasure.

"You feel so good," he croaked, grabbing her breasts. Fiona leaned over briefly so he could take them into his mouth, one then the other, and then she sat back up and began riding him harder and faster. She felt the tension coiling in her own midsection  
and was surprised to realize she was on the verge of another orgasm so quickly.

Negan felt her walls tightening around him and smiled lazily up at her. "Again?"

"I told you," she panted, barely able to get the words out. "You drive me crazy."

He thrust upward in one forceful motion and emptied himself into her, grabbing onto her hips while his body shuddered in release. Fiona placed her hands over his, lacing their fingers together to brace herself, and then bit down on her lip to stop  
a scream erupting from her mouth. She arched her back and let go, her body trembling in sync with his, and came to the realization that she needed this-needed HIM-every day.

Once a week was just not going to cut it.

So now, as impossible a feat as it seemed, it was just a matter of figuring out how. 


	29. Chapter 29

Fiona and Negan were sitting together, sharing a snack of pretzels and candy bars. He had stocked the tree house the day before with a bunch of goodies and bottles of water, figuring they would need sustenance to keep up their stamina. She had squealed  
when she saw the Twix, explaining how it was her all time favorite and she hadn't had the pleasure of one in over a year. When he asked for a taste, she stingily refused and he loved watching her delight as she ate it slowly, savoring each bite.

"You really are a junk foodie," he said in awe. "Were you always this thin?"

She smiled guiltily. "Maybe."

"One of those metabolisms most women would kill for, huh?"

"Pretty much."

He shook his head in half admiration, half disbelief and smiled at her, an ear to ear dimpled smile which lit up his entire face in a way she had never seen it before. Her heart fluttered wildly and when she saw that smile, she couldn't resist. She broke  
off a piece of the Twix and leaned over, placing it in his mouth.

"What was that for?" he asked in surprise.

"No reason."

He leaned back over and kissed her deeply. They both tasted of chocolate. "Sex and candy," he murmured against her lips. "Doesn't get much better than this." His kisses grew harder and he tried to pull her onto his lap but she scooted out of his  
reach. She leaned up against the wall and readjusted the blanket across her chest. He lifted his hands in a "what gives?" gesture.

"Not yet," she said in between another mouthful of chocolate. "I'm taking a break."

"Your break ends when I say it ends, gorgeous." He advanced towards her with a predatory look in his dark eyes. He playfully tackled her down onto her back and began tickling her neck with kisses.

She laughed hysterically as she attempted to fend him off. "Stop! Please! I shared my chocolate with you!"

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?"

She couldn't answer because his fingers began torturing her armpits, then her sides and finally the sensitive spots behind her knees. He quickly learned every spot of weakness on her body and soon she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

He gave her a quick respite to catch her breath. "So you're pretty ticklish.."

"Ya think?"

His fingers grasped her sides again at the ready. "Don't make me start up again, smartass."

Still laying beneath him, Fiona popped another piece of chocolate in his mouth.

"Trying to bribe me, now, are we?"

"Perhaps."

"Okay." He sighed dramatically as he rolled off of her and sat up against the wall next to her. "It's working." He held out his hand for another piece.

"Didn't you just eat a whole Snickers?"

"I did. But I'm three times your size and still hungry."

Fiona was on her last bar. She broke him off a quarter of it. "No more. The rest is mine."

They chewed in silence savoring the last of the treats. Fiona stood up, secured the blanket around her and went over to the table to grab another bottle of water. She drank greedily. Then she settled on the rocking chair, tucking her legs under her to  
the side. She rested her head against the back of the seat and looked out the big picture window. "This place really is incredible. I would have loved a retreat like this. Just to come sit out here and read."

Negan watched her, smiling at her reverie. She was a vision, sitting there gazing out the window as the sun's rays reflected off her hair and the smooth skin of her shoulder which had escaped the blanket. She was so beautiful. A part of him wished  
she wasn't so sweet and good natured as well because then he wouldn't be falling for her as hard and fast as he unfortunately was.

"So you're a bookworm, too?" he asked, enjoying learning all these little tidbits about her.

Fiona turned her head from the window and smiled lazily over at him. "Bookworm isn't strong enough a word."

"Favorite book?"

"Don't have one. That's like asking me to choose a favorite song or movie. It's not possible."

He smiled because he felt the same way. And on the rare occasion he did give an answer to that question, it usually depended on what mood he was in. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles and readjusted the blanket  
over his waist. Taking a long a swig of his water, he continued to eye her keenly. "Tell me something. Anything."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." He shrugged as he thought. "The...craziest thing you've ever done."

"Honestly?" She waved her hand around the treehouse and then pointed between the two of them. "This. Us."

"Seriously!?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I used to lead a very boring life pre -apocalypse."

"I believe you. My shock was more over the fact you called this crazy."

"Well... It is." She self -consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "At least for me."

"And why is that?"

"Because... I came here for the sole purpose to have sex with you... Because... I'm lying to the people I love every time I'm with you... Because you are supposedly the most hated and feared villain around these parts and I'm shacking up with you..."

"You're a renegade."

"Pretty much." She digested his words, realizing he was right. "So yes, this is the craziest thing I've ever done, believe it or not."

"Any regrets?"

She stared at him, at that handsome face, those deep brown eyes which were looking back at her like she was the only woman in the world and her heart fluttered against her rib cage. Shaking her head, she said quietly but with the utmost confidence. "No.  
No regrets."

Negan realized he had been holding his breath while he awaited her answer, a part of him afraid of what she might say. But then he smiled in relief, a shy, little boy smile, causing his dimples to reappear. "We didn't come here JUST to have sex. Although  
that was the main objective."

"Oh really? Then what else was this outing for?"

"To eat some candy and...get to know each other," he teased.

"Sounds like a blind date."

"Ever been on one?"

"Too many. And each one more painful than the last."

"Care to share any of the gory details?"

Fiona stood up, holding tight to her blanket and walked back over to him. "I wouldn't want to waste what precious time I have left with you." She stifled a yawn and lay down with her head in his lap. "Tell me something about you, now."

"Nothing to tell. You know more than most already."

"What did you do before the apocalypse?"

"I was a high school English teacher. And coached the football team."

"Wow. Okay, so that explains your love of books. But football, too? Those are like polar opposites. Usually the jocks are not intellectuals and vice versa."

"I broke the mold."

"I believe it."

"What kind of teacher were you?"

"A real hard ass."

Fiona laughed then yawned again. "I believe that too."

Negan brushed a hand down her hair. "Why don't you close your eyes for a few minutes? I'll give you a short power nap before I ravish you again."

"How thoughtful." Another yawn. "I think that's a good idea, though." Fiona hadn't realized how tired she was until she had lay down. She hadn't slept much last night, worrying about all the things that could have gone wrong today, and then added to that  
the physical exertion of the past hour, it was all finally catching up to her.

She closed her eyes and Negan watched her fall asleep. It didn't take very long. Then he shifted her gently off his lap so as not to wake her, lay a pillow under her head and settled down beside her, draping an arm across her hip.

He decided he would close his eyes, too.

Just for five minutes. 

* * *

Fiona stirred and woke up in Negan's arms. He was holding her close, his chest against her back, and she could feel every beat of his heart, strong and steady.

The sunlight through the window had moved, leaving part of the treehouse in shadow now. They had slept a lot longer than they had planned to. Thank God it was still light out because she knew Daryl would have a coronary if she didn't return on time.

She detangled herself carefully so as not to wake him and tiptoed across the room to step outside. The temperature was dropping as the sun started to set behind the trees. She wrapped the blanket tightly around her body and surveyed the surrounding woods  
for any signs of danger but all was quiet.

She heard the door open and Negan walked out with a blanket wrapped low around his hips. His hair was sticking up messily in all directions and he even made rumpled and sleepy look so incredibly sexy. The naughty side of her was hoping for one last quickie  
before they left and she felt that familiar lurch in her belly at the thought. After all, how could she resist him looking like that?

He vigorously rubbed a hand over his face to rouse himself. "How long was I asleep?"

"Don't know. I just woke up myself."

"So much for a short power nap," he muttered, cursing under his breath. "It's almost time to go."

"I don't want to." The words rushed out before she could stop them and she bit her tongue. She didn't want him to think she was needy or clingy. She didn't want to be that girl and scare him away. She wasn't supposed to show him she cared.

She was tough.

Here for the sex only and nothing more.

"Neither do I," he murmured pulling her against him, and she froze, shocked by his confession.

Negan stood holding her like that, her back against his chest and his arms wrapped snugly around her. He closed his eyes and imagined they were on a balcony overlooking the turquoise ocean in a tropical paradise. He could almost feel the warm salty breeze  
caressing their skin. And he felt a sad, bittersweet longing deep down in his heart. It ached so much it almost brought him to tears because he knew it was something that could and would never be. Now he finally understood why Fiona hated the "imagine"  
game. He promised himself he would never make her play it again.

He opened his eyes to return to real life. He was still standing on a balcony and still had Fiona in his arms so that was something to be thankful for, at least. He slipped his hand inside her blanket and ran it over her breast then slid it down  
between her legs. He began rubbing her but was surprised to find she was already wet and ready for him.

"Once more," he said huskily. "I need you one more time."

Fiona turned to take his hand and lead him inside but he stopped her, pulling her back against him the way she had just been standing. He tugged the blanket off of her, letting it drop to the floor. She shivered, goose bumps decorating her flesh, as soon  
as the chilly air hit her bare skin.

"Right here, gorgeous. I'll keep you warm. Now bend over."

She did as he asked-she would do anything he asked, she realized desperately -and leaned over the balcony, her fingers curling around the railing for support. His body was hot and hard and with one palm splayed across her belly and the other holding  
her hip, he thrust into her from behind. She cried out as her body took him deep. He pulled out, teased his tip at her entrance, groaning in pleasure, then thrust back in again.

He was hitting her perfect spot and she couldn't help but moan with each thrust.

"Ever been fucked this way?" he asked, his breath warm on her ear. He nipped it with his lips, then moved down to her neck, his tongue teasing the sore spot where he had left his mark on her earlier.

Fiona could barely speak so she just shook her head in answer to his question, then moaned again as her body not only took each hit like a champ, but also enjoyed it.

"You like it?"

"Very much," she panted breathlessly, before another moan escaped her mouth, louder than the last one.

"Come on then, gorgeous, scream for me." He grabbed both her hips tightly and increased the pace, thrusting so hard Fiona couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Ohhh...God...oh Yes!" The feel of his hard thick cock slamming into her was heaven. She was so wet for him that her juices were dripping down her thighs. Her body was wound so tightly on the verge of one of those earth shattering orgasms he had bragged  
about the first night she met him. Problem was, she didn't think she would survive this one, let alone be able to stand up or walk on her own afterwards. "Negan!" She screamed his name, whether imploring him to stop or go faster, her muddled  
brain had no clue. She just needed release and when it finally came, it was so intense she saw stars. "Oh GOD...NEGAN!" Her whole body shattered there in his arms, broken into a thousand pieces as she trembled uncontrollably.

The sound of her screaming his name brought him to such a powerful climax that he cried out loudly as well, holding her tightly against him as he emptied himself into her. He cursed, a whole long string of colorful expletives, his breathing ragged. After  
what felt like an eternity and quite possibly his longest orgasm to date, his body finally slackened and he slowly pulled out of her, his muscles weak and spent.

Fiona turned in his arms, feeling completely weightless and glad he still had his arms around her. She looked up at him and smiled coyly when she saw the expression on his face.

Negan couldn't speak.

No words would even do justice to the whirlwind of emotions racing through his mind and body at that moment. He embraced her tightly, resting his chin on her head as he ran a hand through her hair. When his breathing returned to a somewhat normal pace,  
he whispered the one question he had been asking himself for the better part of three weeks.

"What have you done to me, gorgeous?" 


	30. Chapter 30

The drive back to the gas station passed too quickly for Fiona's liking. She and Negan made small talk, laughed and joked over the most random things, but the fact remained their situation was not getting any easier. Itonly seemed to get harder  
with each goodbye because their relationship, whether they wanted it to or not, had taken on a life of its own and seemed to be moving beyond just physical. They were undeniably growing closer, and as frightening as that was to Fiona, it also energized  
her and gave her hope for the future. She knew now she probably had the power to convince him to change his ways and back down from Alexandria. Especially after what he said to her on the balcony. She had heard the vulnerability in his voice, the  
desperation, the confusion, and it had floored her. Because never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined him to be the type to fall for any woman. Not after what had happened to him in his past life. Yet she had somehow cracked him. It was  
still so baffling to her.

When the gas station came into view in the distance, she could already see Daryl there sitting on his bike waiting for her.

"Next week? Same place and time?" Negan's voice broke through the somber silence that had fallen upon them.

Fiona didn't know how she could convince her friends she was going out for a supply run every week at the same exact time but that was something she had seven days to figure out. If the end reward was time spent alone with Negan, she would most certainly  
find the means.

"Sounds good."

He idled the engine a good distance from Daryl's bike and turned to look at her, caressing her thigh. She stared back at him and wondered if he was going to kiss her goodbye or was going to pass due to their audience. Daryl had a perfect view of them  
through the windshield and they could see him scowling. He held up his arm and tapped his wrist impatiently, telling Fiona it was time to go.

Negan didn't disappoint her. He leaned over and cupped her cheek in his hand, guiding her mouth to his. He kissed her, a quick but thorough kiss that made her hot for him all over again. How was it he was so damn skilled at that? Her body should have  
had enough after today. Yet this was proof she could never have enough of him.

There was no such thing. It just wasn't possible.

He sucked gently on her lower lip before pulling away. "Thanks for today, gorgeous. It was definitely one for the books."

"Thanks for the chocolate."

He laughed. "You're very welcome."

"And for the sex."

"That was my pleasure." His eyes lit up as dimples graced his cheeks. "I'll have you screaming my name again real soon, don't you worry bout that."

"Cocky bastard," she muttered jokingly under her breath before flashing him one last wistful smile, grabbing her backpack and stepping out of the truck.

Negan watched her walk over to Daryl's bike. Daryl said something to her but she didn't respond. She just climbed on behind him and tied her hair up in a messy bun. His chest tightened when he saw her wrap her arms around Daryl's torso and rest her cheek  
against his back.

As Daryl sped off he lifted his arm and flashed Negan his middle finger.

Negan had the sudden urge to follow them and take Fiona back, plucking her right off the bike and into the safety of his truck. He was so desperate for her he actually would have done it if he could have brought her back to the Sanctuary tonight. As nice  
as the treehouse was, his life was at The Sanctuary and he needed to show his community who was boss.

Why was he letting them call the shots anyway?

Maybe he was getting soft like Erika and Rocky had accused him of that day.

He shook his head, trying to clear his muddled brain. He was too fucked up to think straight right now. Drunk on sex and chocolate. He smiled goofily at the thought, unable to resist the perfect memories as they kept invading his mind. It had been a fun  
tryst and if everything fell into place he would be lucky enough to do it again next week but for now he had to put it behind him and move on.

He had a lot of business to take care of this upcoming week and needed to be on top of his game.

He peeled onto the road and sped off.

He was going to start with a good night's sleep.

And he had a feeling he was going to sleep like a baby tonight. 

* * *

Gabriel was on gate duty when he heard the purr of Daryl's bike in the distance. He climbed down the ladder and hurried to get it open for them. He knewDaryl had taken Fiona on a run to a pharmacy and he hoped they had returned with a decent amount  
of supplies. Daryl slowed the bike to a crawl while passing through, stopped long enough just to say hello to Gabriel and then took off again down the street. He didn't stop until he reached Carol's driveway.

Fiona climbed off the bike and walked around to thank him. But as soon as he saw her, his eyes darkened and he hissed, "Are you fucking stupid!?"

She looked at him quizzically and it wasn't until he motioned to her neck that she suddenly understood. Covering the hickey with her hand, she quickly pulled her hair down so it was partially hidden. She had completely forgotten it was there.

"Letting him mark you like that? What the fuck!? How the hell are you gonna hide that shit now?"

"I told him not to," she said, realizing how pathetic she sounded.

Daryl laughed sarcastically. "Right." Shaking his head, he got back on the bike. "I'm done with this. I'm not doing it again. Find someone else to help you go play whore to that asshole." He backed his bike slowly down the driveway and she hurried after  
him.

"Daryl, no. Wait. Please!" She grabbed his handlebars to make him stop. "You're the only one who can help me. I have to see him again. I can't explain it... but I just HAVE to."

"Why!? Why are you so obsessed with him!?" He leaned over and got in her face. He realized he needed to lower his voice so people wouldn't overhear. "If it's just about sex, come to me for the night instead! I can give you everything he's giving you and  
more!"

Fiona rolled her eyes at his offer but still found herself blushing. "It's not about sex."

"It has to be. Because don't tell me you're fallin' for the prick."

"I.. I don't know..."

"You have a lot of people here who care about you. And you're gettin' real close to throwing it all away." He shook his head in disgust, unable to comprehend her reasoning.

"I'll figure it out."

"There's nothin' to figure out. That's what I'm tryin' to beat into that thick head of yours."

"Don't tell me what to feel, Daryl."

"No. I'll just tell you how stupid you're being." With that he continued backing up his bike and then sped off when he got to the street.

Fiona stared after him helplessly and stubbornly blinked back the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes. Crying wouldn't help her situation. She needed to keep a straight head because any little slip up now could be very dangerous.

She walked back up the driveway, slung her backpack over her shoulder and went inside.

Carol was in the kitchen.

She had watched Fiona and Daryl's exchange through the window, curious as to what, if anything, was going on between them. She turned and smiled when Fiona entered the room.

"Glad you guys made it back safely. Was the run successful?"

Fiona climbed up onto one of the island stools. Panicking, she realized she hadn't even planned on how to cover for that story she and Daryl had told people. She wracked her brain and came up with the most plausible excuse. "Not really. All the meds were  
expired. Didn't bring anything back."

Carol looked at her for the longest time with those cool, calculating greyeyes and Fiona knew she wasn't nearly that gullible. "I know I told you I wouldn't pry and I'dgive you your privacy when you moved in, but I have to ask. Is something  
going on between you and Daryl?"

Fiona looked at her, dumbfounded. Out of all the things she expected and feared Carol to say, it certainly wasn't that. "No! Not at all! Why would you even think that?"

"Well... You went out for a supply run and came back empty. You just had what looked like an intense lovers' quarrel out in my driveway, and...you're sporting a pretty impressive hickey on that pretty neck of yours."

That damn hickey. She silently cursed Negan a hundred times over. Her hand went to her neck, as if covering it could magically make it disappear. "This... It's not from Daryl. I swear."

"You didn't have it yesterday."

"I did. I was just doing a better job of hiding it."

Carol raised a skeptical eyebrow and shot her a look which told Fiona she wasn't fooling her. But she tactfully let it slide and returned to her baking. "Okay then. There's pasta in the fridge from dinner if you're hungry."

Fiona was hungry. Not hungry, famished. But she would eat later when Carol went to Tobin's.  
"Thanks. I'm gonna go shower first and get cleaned up."

"Ok. I'll be leaving in a half hour or so."

As Fiona left the room, Carol called out to her. She paused and turned in the doorway.

"I'm a good listener. And I won't judge you."

For the briefest of moments Fiona actually debated confiding in her. She needed help. She needed advice and she didn't know who else to turn to. But she would give it a little more time on her own first. "Thank you, Carol. I appreciate that."

Then she quickly disappeared upstairs into the safety of her room.

She kicked off her boots and took off her sweater,throwing it on the bed. Peeling down her jeans, she felt the dull ache between her legs but it was a pleasant reminder of how she had spent the afternoon. She could still smell him, his earthy  
sandalwood scent, and her skin tingled from top to bottom with the memory of his touch. She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, turning her head at an angle. The hickey was large on her petite neck and painfully obvious. She tried covering  
it with her hair in different positions but it only hid it partially.

She cursed under her breath. She was screwed. Did she have any turtlenecks? The weather wasn't cold enough for them yet. An infinity scarf? Right, Fiona. Because those are so readily available in a zombie apocalypse and looking so chic won't seem out  
of place in the least.

She cursed again, ran the shower and began to undress, figuring makeup would be her only option. 

* * *

Fiona was sitting on the couch, reading her book and devouring her second bowl of pasta when someone knocked on Carol's door. She didn't answer it, hoping they would get the hint and go away. But then the knocking came again and she heard Rick's voice  
say, "I know you're in there Fee. I saw you through the curtain. Your sitting right there on the couch reading. Please open up."

Fiona bit her lip anxiously. She had no choice but to answer it.

She marked the place in her book, lay the pasta bowl on the coffee table and pulled her hair out of its ponytail, arranging it about her neck. She had layered cover up over the hickey after the shower and it camouflaged it a decent amount but to the trained  
eye it was still pretty obvious.

She opened the door and was hit with unexpected pangs of guilt when she saw him. It had been over a week since they had last spoken. He had given her space like she requested and hadn't pressured or harassed her since she walked out. She knew she owed  
him this talk. But she just wouldn't have chosen tonight to do so.

Not when the memory of Negan's hands and lips were still so freshly imprinted on her body.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Can I come in?"

She motioned to the porch. "Can we sit out here? I was just gonna come out for some fresh air."

"It's chilly."

"I know." She forced a small smile. "I love this weather." She grabbed her sweatshirt off the couch and walked past him. She settled down on the porch swing making sure he sat on her left side since the hickey was on her right. She was hoping  
between the darkness and strategic seating he would not catch it.

"Talk to me, Fee. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours. Please."

His voice was so gentle that for a moment Fiona was reminded of all the things she loved about him. "Something happened to me after I got taken."

"I realize that. I'm just trying to wrap my head around what it was. What happened? And why are you having such a hard time explaining it?"

"Because I can't even put a finger on it myself. I just... I didn't come back the same person... Maybe I became jaded over this whole situation, I don't know... Like why are humans waging war on each other? We should all be on the same side. This...this  
hierarchy we created is so...stupid!"

"Did you tell that to Negan?"

"In not so many words, yes."

Rick looked at her in surprise because he had only been joking. The concept of them even having a normal, cordial conversation together blew his mind. "You did!? Well...what did he say?"

"He asked what my alternative was."

"And?"

"I said I didn't have one yet."

"We got involved when we shouldn't have. I know that and take full responsibility for the mess it created. But now we are in this and it's too late to change things."

"What if he backed off of us?"

"He wouldn't! You heard him in that forest clearing! We took down a lot of their people. This is his revenge. He needs us now."

She repeated the question. "But what if he would?"

Rick studied her profile for the longest time. Her face was in shadow and she was staring out into the street. Did she know something he didn't? "What makes you think a guy like him would do something like that?"

"I'm just playing every scenario here...and trying to come up with a solution.

"Does he have a weakness? Do you know?"

I think I've become that weakness, she thought to herself in disbelief. But she could never admit that to Rick. So she shook her head and said quietly, "I have no idea."

"We're going to run out of food. And winter is coming. I have no idea what we are gonna do."

Fiona didn't realize supplies were that sparse. "We have to keep going out on runs then. Stock up before the winter."

"The past few runs this week have been failures. Everyone is coming back empty handed. We would probably make it through by the skin of our teeth if we weren't forced to give half to them every month. But we know they aren't gonna back down."

Fiona vowed then and there she was going to start broaching the subject with Negan. For the good of her community, it was the least she could do. So that somehow, someday, when they all found out the ugly truth about her, they wouldn't be so quick to  
persecute her.

"I've been thinking a lot this past week, about things... Especially at night when I'm lying in bed alone...Maybe you and I... Maybe we rushed things, I don't know...It felt right to me, though. It was perfect... But if you want we can go back  
to being friends... I won't like it because all I want to do, especially right now, is make love to you, God I miss you so much, Fee. So much it hurts...but if that's what's necessary to save us, I'll do it... I'll do anything."

Fiona was quiet as she digested his words. She didn't expect such an offer, nor did she deserve it. She thought it would be all or nothing with him, yet here he was, sitting beside her and offering her the friendship card back.

How could she say no?

She cared about him. She cared about his family. Of course she still wanted them all in her life.

But on the other hand, how in good conscience could she say yes, knowing what she was doing with Negan behind his back?

As the conscience war raged in her head, she eventually came to the conclusion that friends was better than lovers especially if she was secretly sleeping with another man.

"Maybe that's a good idea," she agreed quietly. "For now."

Rick nodded in resignation. He was hoping for a different answer but had to make do with the one he got. "Ok. I respect that." He tenderly brushed her hair away and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before standing up. "I'll let you get some sleep. And  
don't worry. We'll figure this thing out with Negan. I like your idea about finding his weakness, though. Maybe I'll call a meeting with Jesus and some other people from Hilltop and we can see what we can find out."

The idea wasn't mine, Fiona thought to herself, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

She didn't want anyone prying into Negan's life for fear things would somehow get traced back to her.

Not only that, she didn't like the idea of groups plotting against him. She knew it was inevitable, and that people had been attempting to kill him for a long time, her own group included, but now the thought of him getting hurt or killed terrified her.

She was emotionally invested and there was no turning back now.

She watched Rick walk down the street until he disappeared around the corner.

She knew she needed to tell him the truth before he heard it from someone else. It was going to destroy him either way, though.

With a heavy heart full of guilt, she went back inside.

She shut off the light in the living room and made her way upstairs. She brushed her teeth then pulled off her sweatshirt, settling into bed. She burrowed under the blankets to get warm and as soon as she closed her eyes, whatever guilt she had been feeling  
dissipated and her body began craving Negan with a desire so fierce and unexpected it physically hurt. Her arms ached to hold him and she felt so empty lying there without him.

She began imagining a world where the two of them could go to bed together every night and wake up by each other's side every morning and soon fell asleep to very pleasant dreams. 


	31. Chapter 31

Negan stood there, panting.

Lucille hung limply from his hand, covered in dark blood and gore.

He and Dwight had just been ambushed by a large group of walkers (is that what he was calling them now?)on the way to Hilltop. Dwight's car had broken down and they were in the process of trying to fix it when the walkers appeared through  
the trees.

"Next time we take my truck," he grumbled angrily. "You need to junk this fucking piece of shit."

"Sorry, boss."

"So can you get it started or do we need to start walking back?"

Dwight's head disappeared beneath the hood. "Give me five more minutes."

Negan peeled off his dirty jacket and walked over to the edge of the forest. He began running Lucille across the grass and bushes in an attempt to clean her and remove most of the walkers' remains. He would give her a good scrubdown when he got home like  
he always did, but for now this would have to do. Then he returned to the road and sat down on the gravel, resting his elbows on his knees and realizing he was in desperate need of a shower himself.

He watched Dwight work but was thinking of Fiona.

It was Friday.

He was supposed to meet her later today. But the way things were looking, he wasn't going to make it to the gas station on time. He wondered how long she would wait for him. Or how long the redneck would allow her to wait for him. He didn't want to think  
of her disappointment when he didn't show. Or the doubts that would start running through her head.

He HAD to get there. Come hell or high water. He would make it happen.

"Move your ass Dwight," he barked. "I've got a lot of fucking shit to do today."

"I can't get it, boss. It's dead." Dwight reemerged and was visibly shaking in fear of Negan's wrath.

"Godammit!" Negan stood up, grabbed his dirty jacket and Lucille off the ground and began walking. "Get your fucking gun and let's go," he ordered.

Dwight looked at him incredulously. "We're gonna walk it?"

"How the hell else do you expect to get home!? Hitchhike?" He motioned with his head and kept walking.

Dwight got his things and hurried to catch up with Negan.

They walked the three long miles back to the Sanctuary in silence. 

* * *

Daryl watched Fiona as she paced back and forth across the gravel, looking up and down the road in anticipation. They had arrived at the gas station fifteen minutes ago and there was still no sign of Negan. He could see the disappointment she was trying  
so hard to hide but wasn't doing a very good job of it. A part of him felt sorry for her. But the other part felt a sick sort of satisfaction at the thought of Negan letting her down.

She finally stopped pacing and sat down with her back against one of the pumps, legs stretched out in front of her.

"Don't get comfortable," he growled. "We're outta here in five minutes. We shouldna even stayed this long."

Fiona glanced at him, her blue eyes dim and lifeless.

Resignation was setting in, he realized.

She was being stood up.

She nodded and returned her attention to the road, straining her ears for any faint purr of a motor in the distance. But all was quiet. She began to think of the reasons why Negan wouldn't show, especially after he was so adamant last time about seeing  
her again soon. It just didn't make sense. Once her overactive imagination got to possibilities like he was injured, dead, or he found someone new and just didn't want her anymore, she immediately turned her thoughts over to something else.

Those were possibilities she just couldn't, wouldn't accept.

"Let's go, Fiona", Daryl ordered, getting back on his bike. "Or you can walk back on your own."

Fiona knew better than to plead with him. It wouldn't work. She still didn't know how she convinced him into driving her today since he was so adamant after last week's trip that he was done. But now she knew he meant business. And he had certainly waited  
around longer than she expected him to.

She got up slowly and walked over to his bike, climbing on behind him. Her disappointment was so strong it physically hurt like a pain in her chest. She waited all week for this, ticking off the days as they passed, counting down the minutes until she  
would see and feel him again.

Now she had no way of knowing when they would meet up next. It was that sense of helplessness that hurt most of all.

Daryl sped off and and Fiona rested her cheek against his back, closing her eyes.

She didn't know whether to be mad at Negan or worried sick about him.

She figured a combination of both would suffice. 

* * *

They hadn't gotten far when Daryl slammed on the breaks and cursed.

Fiona opened her eyes and looked over his shoulder. A decent sized group of walkers, maybe 15 or more, were huddled over what seemed to be a dead deer in the middle of the road, causing a very inconvenient roadblock. At first Fiona thought they  
hadn't heard the motorcycle because they continued on with their feeding frenzy. But one walker, a tall hefty man with half of his neck and gut missing, zoned in on them and began his approach. Others soon followed.

"Dammit!" Daryl jumped off the bike and loaded his crossbow. "Stay back until I need you," he ordered.

"I have a gun. I can help."

"No! I don't want you making any extra noise. There may be others out there."

"I also have my knife."

"I said stay the fuck back!" He took a few steps forward and shot the walker through his skull. He dropped to the floor like a rag doll and Daryl ran up to retrieve the arrow, reloaded his crossbar then shot at the next one which was quickly approaching.  
The rest of them caught on and decided the deer wasn't nearly as interesting or appetizing as fresh meat.

"Now can I help?" Fiona jabbed, as the horde began closing in on them. "Or do you think we can just try to ride around them?"

Daryl had been considering that option since he stopped the bike but didn't like the odds. There were too many of them and all it would take would be one grab and they'd have Fiona pulled off the motorcycle and she'd be toast. He couldn't risk that. If  
he was alone, perhaps he would have attempted it. But he wasn't going to put her in danger.

"We can't ride past them."

"Ok then let's do this." She pulled her knife from its holster at her right hip and before Daryl could stop her, she ran up to a female walker, driving the knife into her ear and through her skull. Then she moved on to the next one. And then a third.  
Daryl watched her, frozen in panic, ready to come to her aid if she needed him but she seemed to be doing just fine without him. He took down two more walkers himself but they just seemed to keep on coming.

Just when he began to worry they wouldn't be able to sustain this pace much longer, the sound of a truck speeding up the road broke the eerie silence.

Fiona got distracted and turned around.

Negan's truck.

He had come for her after all.

In that one split she lost her focus, a nearby walker closed in and grabbed her left arm.  
It felt like a vice around her bicep and she couldn't shake free. She tried to bring the knife up but couldn't reach high enough to its head. Another walker was coming at her and she kicked out at it, causing it to stumble for a second but then continue  
its approach. She was frozen in panic couldn't seem to scream for help.

So Negan did it for her.

"DARYL ! HELP HER GODDAMMIT!"

He had jumped out of his truck but was on the other side of the large mass of walkers and wouldn't get to her in time. His heart clenched in his chest as soon as he saw the danger she was in and a panic so fierce and unexpected overcame him.

Panic at the thought of losing her.

Daryl turned around and saw the trouble Fiona was in. He finished off the nearest walker and hurried over, killing the one who was just about to bite down on her trapped arm and then the next one who had grabbed her leg. Once Fiona was free again, she  
uttered a breathless "thanks" and even though a bit shaken, continued to take down more walkers.

Negan was working his way towards them from the opposite side, bashing in one skull after the next with Lucille, his only mission to get to Fiona. This was all his fault. If only he had been on time to pick her up. He knew he was being silly, though.  
He had no control over what had happened here. But fear was making him irrational. Seeing her battling in the middle of a group of walkers made him so uneasy that his hands were trembling even as they gripped tightly to Lucille.

It felt like ages but was only mere minutes until the three of them had cleared the way. Once the last walker fell to the ground, Negan pulled Fiona into him and hugged her fiercely. She was intact and okay. But he still couldn't get over the scare she  
had given him.

"Goddammit, gorgeous, don't ever fucking do that to me again," he said against her ear. "You hear me?" He could hear his voice shaking and wondered if she could hear it, too. He smoothed her hair and continued to hold her, afraid to let go.

"I'm sorry," Fiona said quietly, still shivering from the after effects.

"You sure you're okay?"

She nodded and rested her head against his chest. She felt so safe there in his arms. He had come for her after all. He wasn't hurt or dead and he still wanted her. She was so relieved she could cry but she stubbornly blinked the tears back.

She was stronger than that.

Daryl was walking through the carnage retrieving all his arrows and trying to ignore the emotional reunion taking place in front of him. He too, was shaken by Fiona's near miss. He had been careless and didn't protect her the way he should have. But she  
should have known better,too. She was never one to lose her head when battling walkers. But assoon as she heard Negan's truck, she got distracted for that split second. He had seen the glimmer of relief and happiness transform her face  
upon his arrival.

She cared about him, he realized.

It WAS more than just physical, and he hadn't believed her until now.

Negan looked up and met Daryl's gaze over the top of Fiona's head. His eyes were still wide and troubled but he nodded in gratitude to Daryl as he continued to hold Fiona close.

And it was in that moment Daryl realized begrudgingly that Negan cared about her, too.

More that he probably should.

Because it put a big ol'bulls eye on both of them.

Negan now had a very tangible weakness and Fiona would serve as the perfect bait to take him down. Information of that caliber, in the wrong hands, could be very dangerous.

Which put Daryl in a tough spot.

He knew he should have never gotten involved in the first place.

Because the day was inevitably going to come when he would be forced to choose between Fiona and the community of Alexandria.

And he had absolutely no idea which side he would take. 


	32. Chapter 32

"Ithought you weren't coming." Fiona's voice broke the silence in the truck. They had parted ways with Daryl soon after taking care of the horde of walkers. "We were heading back. Daryl wouldn't wait any longer."

Negan had finally recovered from the scare she had given him. His hands had stopped trembling and his heart had returned to its normal pace. It had taken awhile though. He just couldn't stop replaying the moment in his head. What if he had shown up five  
minutes later? What if Daryl hadn't reacted fast enough? It would have been too late.

It was frightening to him- the intensity of the panic which had seized him at that moment.

Panic at the thought of losing her.

He figured his body was now conditioned to have such a severe response to loss, after what he had suffered with Sarah and then his wife, but he just never expected to be that vulnerable again.

How wrong he had been.

What he now felt for this woman who was sitting beside him was obviously stronger than he had ever wanted or planned. He couldn't define it just yet, but whatever it was, though, it was undeniable.

"I'd never stand you up, gorgeous," he said matter-of-factly, once he found his voice again. "Remember that. So if I don't show, I'm either hurt or dead."

Fiona sucked in a breath at the horrible thought and the casual way he said it. "Well you're not hurt at least that I can see and you're very much alive so...what happened today?"

"Fell behind because Dwight's car broke down on the way to Hilltop. Had to fight off a bunch of walkers then hike three miles back home just to get my truck and head out again."

"Only to fight more walkers. You must be exhausted."

He chuckled softly. "I'm pretty beat, yeah."

"I would have gone home with Daryl."

"Fuck no! Do you know how hard I worked to get to you?" He reached over to rest a hand on her thigh. "This is all I want right now."

"We're a gory mess of blood and guts."

"Not up for dirty sex?" He flashed her a wicked grin that despite the offensive way they both looked and smelled still got her insides fluttering. She scrunched up her nose at the idea and he laughed. "Ok me neither. But we can fix that."

"How?"

"I'm taking you home. So we can get cleaned up."

She turned and gaped at him. "But.. I thought... Aren't I banned from there?"

"I had a talk with everyone last week. Laid down a new set of ground rules with new punishments. No one will dare cross me. But after Bryson's death, everyone kind of mellowed out a bit anyway."

Bryson.

Fiona's heart tugged at the reminder. "How's Stella?" she asked quietly.

"As expected... Had a rough time at first but she's hanging in there. Keeping busy with Carla now. Wants to learn the basics of some medicine. If only you..." His voice trailed off on the thought. He was going to say if only you were around every day  
Stella would make an eager apprentice. And he wanted her around every day. He wanted to pluck her from Alexandria and help her make a new home at the Sanctuary.

With him.

"Do you think she would like to come back and stay with me for awhile?"

Negan, frustrated by his inability to be be open and say what he was feeling, took it out on Fiona. He laughed sarcastically at her idea. "Right. Like that would ever fly with your holier than thou leader."

"Fuck Rick and fuck you for laughing at me. I'm serious."

"So am I. And no, I don't think she should come stay with you guys. It's a shitty idea."

Fiona glared at him and could feel annoyance slowly turning to anger. "Why not?"

"Because her home is with us. She'd be an outsider with your people. She'd never feel welcome and it certainly won't help her healing process."

"Fine. Whatever you say." She crossed her arms over her chest and dropped the subject, turning her attention back out the window.

Negan knew he had pissed her off.

He hated the feeling he got in his gut when she was upset at him or he had hurt her in some way. It happened that night he crudely shut her down after she asked about Lucille and made him feel like shit.

"Was this our first fight?" he asked after a few minutes, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he tried to lighten the mood.

It worked because she fought back a small smile in response. "I don't think so. We've had a few... disagreements before."

"Yeah but we weren't..."

Together? Exclusive?

Were they?

They never had a 'define the relationship' talk yet. Him admitting there had been no one else in his bed since her could hardly be considered official.

"Fucking?" she finished for him.

Negan let out an uncomfortable cough. "Right," he agreed pathetically for lack of a better term.

"You floundering over there, tough guy?"

At the playful sound of her voice, he tore his gaze from the road to look at her and saw she was now grinning at him. That lovely smile which brightened her eyes and lit up her whole face.

"I most certainly am not."

"Anything in particular you're trying to say to me?"

Was she actually daring him to say it?

But he couldn't.

Not here. Not now.

It just wasn't the right time.

So instead he answered, "Yeah. I fucking can't wait to ravish that delicious body of yours. Once it's clean, that is."

Fiona rolled her eyes at his cop-out but smiled anyway.

Because she, too, couldn't wait for him to do just that.

"I'm sorry I laughed at you," he apologized, growing serious again.

"It's okay. Your right it's probably not the best idea. I just...I would love to spend more time with Stella and get to know her. But that's obviously not possible unless things start changing."

"Nothing's gonna change, gorgeous."

"That's because you don't want it to."

"It's not about me. It's about my people."

"I understand you want to help them and protect them but ever stop and think that making alliances instead of enemies would be more beneficial?"

Negan shot her a sideways glance. "You lecturing me?"

"I'm debating with you. Offering you suggestions and alternatives. Is that allowed?"

God, he loved her spunk. He smiled in spite of himself. "Course it is."

"So wouldn't you rather have friends than enemies?"

"What's your suggestion?"

"Stop exploiting us and Hilltop...Come up with some sort of compromise...Offer services in exchange for supplies...Or we could set up training runs. Teach your people how to properly scavenge and hunt... Winter is coming and at this rate, we are  
all going to starve. But not if we start working together."

"That's not my style."

Fiona continued to challenge him, not backing down. "Well maybe your style is outdated and needs a makeover."

Negan looked at her incredulously, feigning insult. "You're lucky I like you, gorgeous. No one else would get away with saying shit like that to me."

"Well everyone else needs to grow a set of balls and say it."

"Where's this coming from all of a sudden?"

"It's not sudden! Itstarted in that forest clearing. You were punishing us for our killing spree- completely justifiable of course- and things just escalated from there. Your community's reaction to me, not allowing me to take care of Bryson...That  
week I left the Sanctuary and he decompensated, could I have prevented that if I had been around? I don't know... But I think about it every day... Then I think of all the walkers out there and how they are a big enough of a threat to us that we  
shouldn't have to worry about human enemies too... And call me naive, but I also think about how amazing you, Rick and Gregory could be as a team. You are all so smart and could really do great things together. We'd be such a powerful community.  
Nothing could touch us..."

Fiona ended her little speech and looked over at him. His attention was back on the road, eyebrows furrowed in thought but his expression unreadable. He didn't say anything for awhile, but she hoped some, if not all, of what she said had sunk in. She  
wasn't going to press him any further today. She didn't want to ruin the little precious time they had left together.

She had said her piece. It was a start at least.

They finally reached the gate to the Sanctuary and it opened automatically for them like it did that first night he had brought her here. The grounds seemed quiet, not many people milling about. Fiona figured that was a good thing because she was sure  
she wouldn't be welcomed with open arms. The less people who knew she was here the better.

Negan cut the engine outside of his house and looked over at her. "Let's go get cleaned up, gorgeous. We have a lot of lost time to make up for."

When he smiled and those dimples appeared in his cheeks, Fiona knew all was okay between them. 


	33. Chapter 33

Just curious as to whether people are still reading...aside from my one or two faithful followers who always leave me a comment letting me know they are still on board;-) I love all kinds offeedback, suggestions and criticism, too,  
becauseI'malways striving to improve...

Without further ado, some hump day smut... 

* * *

Fiona took a long, hot shower taking care to wash all the grime and blood off of her body. She kept replaying the moment over in her head where she had come dangerously close to getting bit by that walker. It had shaken her up more than she wanted  
to admit. She had been careless. If Negan had arrived five minutes later or if Daryl had slower reflexes, she would be following in Bryson's footsteps right about now. She shuddered at the thought and ran a hand over her arm which was still  
thankfully intact.

Negan had taken her dirty clothes to throw in the wash and left his flannel shirt for her on the sink. She stepped out of the shower, dried off and put it on. It was still as warm and comfortable as she remembered. And still smelled like him-  
that mix of sandalwood and musk she now knew by heart. After she towel dried her hair, she went across to his room, eager for some intimacy, but he wasn't there. The king sized bed looked so inviting and she couldn't wait until she was lying  
between those dark sheets with him.

She made her way downstairs and found him in the kitchen standing at the island counter. He was shirtless and a pair of black track pants hung low on his hips. His wet hair was sticking out in a disarray of short, dark spikes.

Despite looking incredibly sexy, she couldn't help feel slighted by his actions.

Why in the world was he chopping potatoes now?

She leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment. He seemed to be very skilled with the knife and his chopping technique looked professional. Had he loved to cook in his past life? There was still so much she didn't know, but wanted  
to, about him.

He was so focused he didn't even notice she was there until she finally spoke.

"Are you really preparing food when we only have, what, a few hours left together?"

Negan looked up and saw her standing with her hands on her hips and an ornery expression on her beautiful face that was cute as hell. God, he loved her in his shirt. His eyes made a quick appraisal of her body from top to bottom and this time  
he knew for certain she had nothing on beneath it since he had confiscated not only her jacket and clothes but her undergarments as well. He grinned facetiously, bearing both dimples. "Jealous, gorgeous?"

"Of raw potatoes?" Fiona rolled her eyes and made her way towards him. "Immensely."

"I'm just getting a few things ready for dinner."

She eyed him warily. Dinner? What happened to all that talk in the car about him not being able to wait to ravish her? It was time to play the aggressor and take action. She approached him and lifted one finger at a time as she emphasized her  
points.

"A- I don't want dinner. I want you. In bed. With me. NOW. And B- I have to be back at the gas station before dark so there won't be time for dinner anyway."

Negan lifted his finger in imitation of her. "B. You're mine for the night, gorgeous. So there will be plenty of time for dinner. And I don't know about you, but I plan on working up one hell of an appetite."

Fiona gaped at him. The entire night? "What? How?"

He shrugged casually. "I told Daryl I wasn't bringing you back tonight. And when I give orders people fucking listen."

As much as she thrilled at the idea of having a whole uninterrupted night to spend with him, panic quickly set in. "But...where is he going to say I am?"

"The doctor up at Hilltop needed help wth a sick patient. So you agreed to spend the night there and offer your services."

She had to admit that was a pretty brilliant cover up and not something he would have come up with spur of the moment. "You've thought about this, haven't you?"

"Perhaps." Negan fought back another smile and turned to put the potato wedges in a bowl and into the fridge. He emptied the peelings into the garbage and put the cutting board and knife into the sink. Then he grabbed his drink and went to sit  
down at the table. "I made lemonade if you want some."

Fiona stood there, a bit speechless. She was still somewhat caught off guard by his whole Suzie Homemaker act, cooking and drinking lemonade so casually when what he should be doing instead was taking her upstairs and undressing her.

Was she really his for the night? It was too good to true.

But somehow, he had made it happen.

Negan watched Fiona watching him. He loved how she was looking at him so curiously but also with a hint of frustration. He loved how hot and bothered he was able to make her. He loved how she wanted him and wasn't too shy to ask for it.

Damn, the list was getting longer each day, wasn't it?

"I never addressed your point A," he drawled, taking a slow sip of his lemonade and eying her keenly over the rim of the glass.

Fiona walked across the room and stood behind his chair. She ran her hands through his hair then leaned over his shoulders and slid her palms down his chest. When her fingers touched the waist of his pants, she gently scraped her nails back upwards.  
"What's to address?" she spoke into his ear. "Thought it was pretty self-explanatory."

His head rolled back to look at her and she took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth upside down, her tongue teasing his lower lip before sucking on it gently. "This once a week thing is killing me," she murmured. "I think about you constantly.  
And every night I'm lying in bed all alone and I want you so badly it hurts."

"Do you touch yourself?" Negan hardened instantly at the thought, grabbing her arm and pulling her around and onto his lap.

Fiona straddled him and nipped his lower lip again. "Maybe."

He dug his fingertips into her hips, gripping her harder. "Do you?" he asked again, demanding an answer.

"Yes."

His hand disappeared beneath her shirt and met her lips, already slick and so ready for him. "Do you come?" He began to rub her clit in slow circular motions with his thumb.

"Of course."

"Fuckkkkk,". He exhaled at the thought. "What I'd give for a webcam or FaceTime just to see that."

"Who says I'd do it for you?"

"You'd do it for me, gorgeous. You'd do anything I asked." His fingers stroked her harder and then delved deep into her velvety confines.

Fiona writhed on his lap, groaning softly at his touch. She closed her eyes and realized he was right, damn him. She would. She was ready to do it now if only he said the word. "You want me to? Right now?" she asked breathlessly.

"No."

Surprised by his answer, she opened her eyes and looked down at him. "Why not?"

"Because every orgasm you have tonight will be by MY hand, MY mouth, MY dick. When you're with me, I'm the one to pleasure you. And when you're not with me, your hand or a vibrator is all you're allowed. No one else."

There was that possessiveness again. Fiona would be lying if it she said it didn't excite her. "Like vibrators are so easy to come by in an apocalypse," she teased, then gasped loudly as he hit just the right spot.

"You found Victoria's Secret lingerie and fucking birth control pills. So anything's possible."

"Ok. Then I'll tell Daryl to look for one next time he goes out on a supply run."

She said it just to get the rise out of him she knew it would produce and sure enough, he stilled his caresses and stared at her, eyes dark and menacing. "You'll do no such thing."

Her eyes held fast to his and she didn't cower down. Tracing his stubbled jaw with her fingers, she said, "You're sexy when you're jealous."

"I'm dangerous when I'm jealous," Negan corrected her. He was so worked up now that he lifted her off his lap and sat her on the island counter, forcing her to lie on her back. He wrapped his hands around her thighs, pulling her towards the edge  
then spread her legs and began to eat her out.

Not gently either.

"So you admit you're jealous of him?" Fiona panted, enjoying taunting him.

Without looking up he growled, "I'm not answering that." His breath was hot against her center and the vibration of his deep voice was better than any sex toy.

"You so are."

"He could never fuck you like I do."

"Actually, he says he can do better."

Fiona probably should have never admitted that aloud but it came out before she could stop it.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," Negan muttered. The thought of her even having such a conversation with the redneck not only inflamed him beyond words but also motivated him. Never one to back down from a challenge, he then proceeded to prove  
himself and his skills.

His tongue slipped inside her and Fiona groaned, arching her hips to meet him. "Oh god..." She desperately reached out for something to grab onto but there was nothing to brace herself with. She was quickly drowning in the massive waves of pleasure  
that were crashing over her.

Finally her hands grasped both edges of the island and she held on for dear life, biceps straining as her body screamed for release. It came in an explosion so powerful she felt like she was being torn apart from top to bottom and she bit down  
on her lip so hard she drew blood.

"Holy Christ," she uttered once she found the strength to speak minutes later. "You trying to kill me?"

Negan had been watching with sweet satisfaction as her body succumbed to him. He smiled- an ear to ear victory grin- then his hands made their way back upwards under her shirt, cupping her breasts affectionately.

He kissed her thoroughly, sucking off the remaining blood from her lip.

"No one can do better, gorgeous. Don't ever forget it." 


	34. Chapter 34

Thanks for all the feedback and I'mhappy to see some new readers havejoined the party. Welcome and thank you for reading!  
After watching the clip released last night, I have a feeling we are all going to be traumatized by TV Negan in two weeks bc he's nothing like my character. Lol. 

* * *

After their little episode of kitchen foreplay, Negan went upstairs and came down two minutes later. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a Tshirt. Fiona looked at him questioningly from where she sat at the kitchen table drinking lemonade.

"I have to run out for something," he explained, grabbing his keys off the counter. "I'll be right back."

"Seriously?" She pretended to look slighted. Was he ever going to take her to bed?

"Gorgeous, there's a method to my madness. You should know that by now. So don't worry your pretty little head." He winked at her and hurried out. "I'm locking the door behind me!" he called over his shoulder. "By no means do you open it to anyone!"

He stuck his head back in the doorway when she didn't respond. "Got it?"

She mock saluted him. "Yes sir."

"Time me. Five minutes." He pointed at the clock on the microwave and ran out.

Fiona grabbed her lemonade and went to sit in the living room. His reading glasses were resting in their usual spot but he must have finished Grapes of Wrath because A Farewell to Arms had taken its place. She picked it up and started on chapter 1.

Three pages in, the doorbell rang and she looked up in a panic. Was this a test?

She remained on the couch hoping whoever it was would go away. But it rang again a few seconds later. Curiosity getting the better of her, she peeked around the curtain at the window and saw it was only Carla standing there on the porch. So she fixed  
her shirt, making sure she was presentable, and opened the door.

Carla obviously wasn't expecting her, but her initial look of surprise transformed into one of sheer delight when she saw Fiona standing there wearing nothing but Negan's shirt.

"Fiona!" She greeted her with a warm smile and stepped up to embrace her. "It's so good to see you, sweetie. How have you been?"

"Okay, thanks." She stepped back to let her inside, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. It was obvious what she was doing here, in Negan's house, especially when she was half-naked. "How about you? And Nikki?"

"We are all good. Hanging in there." She took a seat on Negan's armchair and Fiona sat across from her. "Bryson's loss hit us all pretty hard but we're slowly bouncing back. Everyone is so grateful for all you did for him."

"Everyone?" Fiona asked skeptically, knowing she still had more haters than fans in this community.

"Mostly everyone," Carla revised.

"I just wish I could have done more."

"You couldn't. Not without the proper meds and equipment. Even if he was in a hospital getting the best care, his odds would have been slim."

Fiona knew she was right but it still hurt to admit defeat.

Carla looked around and said, "So where did Negan run off to?"

"Didn't say. Just said he'd be right back."

"How long have you been together?"

"We're not...together... I mean... It's not like that... It's nothing... just... sex."

Carla looked at her in half-amusement, half-skepticism. "Oh, sweetie. No it's not. And you can't really believe that."

Fiona didn't know what to believe anymore but blushed fiercely at Carla's insinuations. She was saved from the awkwardness of the conversation, however, as Negan came back in through the front door. He was carrying a plastic bag with something wrapped  
up inside of it.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Carla sitting with Fiona in the living room. "Thought I told you not to open the door," he scolded lightly.

"Sorry. Figured Carla was harmless."

He snorted. "She's anything but. And now she's gonna be chewing my ear off about this until kingdom come." He shot Carla a playful no-nonsense glare.

"Nothing to chew your ear off about, handsome. You did good. I'm proud of ya."

Negan shook his head and Fiona could have sworn she saw him blush as he made his way into the kitchen. She heard him put the bag in the fridge before coming back out to join them. He leaned against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other and addressed  
Carla.

"So what brings you by?"

Carla stood up eagerly. "Oh nothing important that can't wait." She grinned from ear to ear, looking back and forth between them. "I'll leave you two alone. I'm sure you have a lovely evening planned." She gave Fiona another hug. "Hope to see you  
around here more often, sweetie," she whispered.

"Say hi to Nikki for me," Fiona said, hugging her back.

Negan walked Carla to the door. "You sure everything is okay?" he asked quietly.

"Everything is fine, handsome. I'm sorry I interrupted."

"You didn't interrupt anything. We've got all night."

He flashed her a rakish grin and she patted his cheek affectionately. "That's the spirit. You treat her right, you hear?"

"I always do." He closed the door behind her, locking it, then turned and smiled at Fiona who had joined him in the hall.

"I hope you don't mind I let her in. It was nice catching up with her."

"Not at all. I was just busting your chops and hers. Thing is, she's been trying to play matchmaker since the first day she met you in the Infirmary. So she's gotta be beyond the moon right now."

Fiona smiled shyly. "She did seem pretty excited to see me."

Negan grinned at the thought. "I bet she did." He stepped up her and wrapped his arms around her pulling her close. "I'm ready to take you upstairs now." He gave her a soft kiss, teasing her lips apart with his tongue, then deepened the kiss, tasting  
her slowly but thoroughly.

Fiona felt her legs weaken just from that simple kiss. "What if I'm not ready? Maybe I want to go chop some vegetables now." She stepped out of his embrace and started towards the kitchen.

Negan grabbed her arm to stop her and backed her up against the wall, pinning both hands at her sides and kissed her again, this time attacking her neck below her earlobe. "You're ready," he murmured against her skin. "You're always ready for  
me, gorgeous."

His confidence was sexy and his aggressiveness even more so. Of course she was ready for him. The ache between her legs was unmistakeable. This voracious sexual appetite was completely new to her and whereas it frightened her at times, it also excited  
her.

One by one he undid the buttons on her shirt, letting it fall open. He admired her, eyes blazing with desire as he ran his hand down between her breasts, coming to rest below her navel. "Do I need to prove how ready you are?" he asked,  
fingers purposely inching downwards. He kissed her hungrily again, nudging her legs apart with his knee.

Fiona pulled off his shirt and dug her nails into his back, matching his hungry kisses with her own. "Okay you win. Take me upstairs."

His kisses stopped and he smiled against her mouth, his broad chest rising and falling with each labored breath. "And what do you want me to do to you upstairs?"

She knew he wanted her to talk dirty. So she purposely answered, "Tuck me into bed so I can take a nap."

Negan grabbed her hair and tugged on it so her head tilted up and she was forced to look at him. The look in his eyes was both terrifying and exciting. He grinded his hips against hers and grabbed her breasts, causing her to moan softly. He caught  
her lower lip between his teeth and bit down firmly before thrusting his tongue back into her mouth and probing deep.

"Say it," he ordered when he came up for air.

Fiona grabbed his waist and unzipped his jeans, tugging them down along with his boxer briefs. She squeezed his cock and hooked her bare leg over his hip, desperate to feel him between her thighs. "I want you to fuck me."

A satisfied smile bared both dimples. "That's more like it."

He lifted her up in his arms and thrust into her, causing her to cry out. She fisted his hair and nipped his earlobe, teasing it with her tongue. He started to climb the stairs but didn't get very far as his willpower caved to carnal desire. He gently  
lowered her down and she whimpered in protest when he drew away, only to moan loudly when he plunged deep again.

"You like that?" He slid out slowly, then thrust back in, over and over again.

"Yes. Oh God, yes." He seemed to grow even thicker inside of her but Fiona couldn't get enough. She needed him deeper. She wrapped both legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body which almost  
cancelled out the pain of the hardwood steps against her back. She looked up at him, strong and formidable as he moved over her like a hungry animal devouring his prey. She was his for the taking, though. Nothing gave her greater pleasure than  
surrendering herself to him to use however, wherever and whenever he wanted.

"Holy shit, gorgeous," he croaked. "I'm gonna fucking explode." He took both her hands and pinned them above her head with one of his while the other grabbed her hip, thrusting as deep as he could go before he stilled all movement. His lips  
went to her shoulder, closing over the sensitive skin around her collarbone, and tried to hold back with all his might. "You ready to come with me?"

Fiona could feel the anticipation coiling deep in her belly, growing so tight and taut and screaming for release. "Let's go," she breathed, and then braced herself for the explosion that was sure to come.

His thrusts picked up speed and strength again until his whole body stiffened as he cried out, emptying every last drop into her. Fiona writhed beneath him and her head kicked back, hitting the edge of the step above her. She saw stars for a brief  
moment but then the orgasm hit, and hit hard, and nothing but glorious pleasure and warmth spread through every inch of her body as a loud moan escaped her mouth which ended on his name.

Negan looked down at her, head back and eyes closed. Her cheeks were flushed and a faint sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, making her seem almost ethereal, like she was glowing. He cupped her cheek and her eyes fluttered open, heavy lidded and  
satisfied. She smiled at him wearily and he smiled back. "I promise I will get you in my bed before the night is over," he murmured, brushing a damp tendril of hair off her face.

"Beds are overrated. I'll take you wherever I can get you."

He chuckled. "You do wonders for my ego." His lips brushed hers softly. "And as for yours, just for the record, that was fucking incredible."

Fiona smiled, basking in the compliment. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him back. Their bodies were still joined, and even though he had grown soft again, she could still feel him inside of her.

Finally, Negan found the strength to tear himself away and retrieved his jeans and boxers from where they lay in a pile at the bottom of the stairs. He threw them on and held out a hand to Fiona, helping her up. She pulled up her shirt which had pooled  
around her waist and winced as she felt a sharp twinge shoot down her back.

"You okay?" he asked concerned.

"Fine. Just a little sore."

He turned her around and slid the shirt off her shoulders. He hissed when he saw the horizontal red welts which tracked across her back. His fingers grazed over them. "Christ, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so rough. I forget you don't have much  
padding back there." When Fiona felt his lips gently touch down on her bruises, unexpected tears sprang to her eyes.

Why the hell was she crying?

Because adrenaline had sent her hormones into overdrive from the hot sex her body just experienced.

Because Negan was being so sweet and caring and showing her a side of him today that she never believed existed.

And because she was falling in love with him.

She'd had a few inklings in the past that this was more than just physical between them, but that very moment as he tenderly kissed her bruises was when she knew for sure. There was no denying it or fighting it anymore.

She wiped her eyes and lifted her shirt back up, quickly buttoning it.

He stepped around to face her, tilting her chin up and his heart shattered when he saw the tears in her eyes, mistaking them for pain. "I'm sorry," he apologized again. "I don't want to hurt you, gorgeous. Ever."

"You didn't hurt me," Fiona whispered, caressing his cheek affectionately as she felt those darn tears threatening to return. "Just the opposite, actually."

He looked at her quizzically but she didn't elaborate. She just stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss before he started asking questions. "I'm gonna run upstairs and take a quick shower."

"Another one?" he joked.  
"You should be thanking me," she teased.

"You're right. Thanks." He grinned at her and bent over to grab his Tshirt from the floor where she had thrown it. Pulling it over his head he said, "I'm gonna start cooking. I'm famished."

"Good idea. Me too, actually."

"Oh and gorgeous?"

Fiona paused halfway up the stairs and looked down at him.

"Do NOT come into the kitchen until I come and get you."

Her smile widened as a flutter of anticipation tickled her chest. The child in her had always loved surprises. And he was obviously planning one for her. But she had no idea what it could be.  
She nodded her head in agreement. "Got it."

Negan watched her disappear upstairs, her cryptic comment still playing over in his head on a repeat loop. She had said he hadn't hurt her and that she was crying for the opposite reason.

What was the opposite of tears of sadness and pain?

Tears of happiness and joy.

So he made her happy?

His heart hitched again at the thought. God it was doing a fucking lot of that in the past few weeks. He really needed to do something about it instead of ignoring it.

But first he needed to get cooking he decided as he made his way into the kitchen.

He'd figure out the rest after dinner. 


	35. Chapter 35

Just bought a ticket to RICC and will be meeting theman himself, JDM, exactly one month from today (on my birthday, no less!). **insert fangirlsqueal here** HopeI can look him in the eye without turning fifty shades of red thinking  
of my smutty fanfic and how he's the star of it! HopefullyI will be inspired to start a new story once this one ends...

I know I sound like a broken record, but thanksas always to all my followers and commentators. When I first starting posting, Inever thought this story would get so much love and attention. You guys are awesome! 

* * *

Fiona was curled up on the couch, deep into A Farewell to Arms. Her mouth was watering from the delectable smells wafting in from the kitchen. She could also feel herself getting drowsy and wondered if she had time for a quick cat nap. Just as her  
eyes were beginning to close, Negan appeared behind her with a glass of red wine.

"Dinner is served," he murmured, planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

Fiona took the wineglass, had a sip and turned her body so her lips found his mouth. He began to deepen the kiss but was afraid if he got started he wouldn't be able to stop and dinner was getting cold. So he pulled away and smiled at her. "What was  
that for?"

"Just a thank you."

"You'll be thanking me after dinner. I'll make sure of it. Now let's go eat."

Fiona marked her spot in the book by dog- earing the page and followed him into the kitchen, stomach rumbling loudly. When she got to the table and saw the meal he had prepared, her initial excitement quickly transformed into much deeper emotions  
and those darn tears returned to her eyes. "You didn't."

Negan had his hands in his pockets, nervously watching her reaction, and shrugged self-consciously. "It's the closest I could get."

"It's...perfect."

On her plate was a hamburger and French fries.

"Obviously I don't have fresh rolls, no cheese, and couldn't for the life of me find you a Coke. The meat is fresh, though. I ran over to the mess hall kitchen earlier for it. It came from Hilltop and-"

Fiona stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and stood on her tiptoes, placing a finger to his lips to silence him. "You're rambling. It's cute but I'm starving. And dinner is fucking perfect. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever  
done for me. So if you don't stop I'm going to keep on blubbering like an idiot because I can't believe you remembered our conversation from that first night."

"Second night," he corrected her with a wink.

"Now I know why you were so adamant about chopping those potatoes."

"Told you there was a method to my madness."

They sat down and Fiona couldn't get over the delicious way everything looked and smelled. She lifted her wineglass and waited for him to make a toast.

Negan cursed under his breath. "You putting me on the spot, gorgeous?" he teased. "It's not enough I cooked for you?" He lifted his glass and stared at Fiona, and could feel himself start to get choked up inside. Was he really sitting here, sharing  
a romantic dinner with a woman, and not just any dinner but a dinner that he, himself, had prepared? How could he put into words everything he was feeling at that moment when he was still so confused and terrified by it all?

It took him a while but when he finally spoke, he spoke the truth.

"To good food...even better sex...but the best company. Here's to us coming a long way from where we started, gorgeous."

Fiona smiled at his toast. It was simple but meaningful.

They clinked glasses and dug into their food. Fiona tried a fry first. It was seasoned with garlic, salt and pepper and was the perfect golden color. There was nothing quite like homemade french fries. It crunched in her mouth and her taste buds rejoiced.  
Then she cut into the burger and took a bite. It was done just right and tasted like heaven.

"You're officially my hero," she said between mouthfuls. "This is beyond incredible."

Negan smiled shyly at the compliment. "Well,thank you. And there's plenty more so eat up. Gotta put some meat on those bones."

"You were obviously a good cook in your past life. I watched you chopping those potatoes earlier and I just had a feeling. And this just seals the deal," she added, pointing to the meal on her plate.

"I did enjoy cooking," he admitted. "And not to brag but yes, I was pretty fucking good at it." He stared off at the stove with a wistful smile on his face. He could picture his daughter standing there beside him clear as day. But whereas he never  
liked thinking or talking about it because it caused him too much pain, he could nowtalk freely to Fiona and it was almost therapeutic in a way. "Sarah was my apprentice," he continued quietly. "She loved helping me. God, she was a  
quick learner too. And most recipes she had memorized by heart. Her favorite was my homemade mac and cheese."

Fiona smiled and watched as he lost himself in the memory.

"My daughter would cook Sunday breakfast with my husband sometimes," she said. "And she would love getting as messy as possible. It was a running joke with them. I'd come downstairs and pretend to be appalled at the mess in the kitchen as well as  
on her, and she'd just cackle away, thinking it was the greatest thing in the world..." Fiona felt herself drifting back to the memories just like Negan had. It was hard because once you started, you wanted to keep on going and get lost in them  
forever.

"What was her name?" Negan asked quietly. "And your son's? You never said..."

With that question she was pulled back to the present. She met his gaze across the table and spoke their names aloud for the first time in over a year. "Kate...and Owen."

He smiled wistfully at her. "I bet they were beautiful...Did they get along?"

"Some days they would be best of friends and other days fight like cats and dogs."

"I used to worry about Sarah growing up an only child. But by the time we got around to realizing we wanted to have another...that was when she got sick and...our priorities shifted."

"Understandably so..." Fiona took a sip of her wine, watching as a shadow crossed his face at the painful memories. So she switched gears to distract him. "We actually didn't think we'd try for a second because it was so tough having Kate," she admitted  
quietly. "And the whole infertility process was so daunting with all the medications, shots I had to give myself, daily appointments, etc. But we had a bunch of frozen embryos leftover and decided we had to give one or two a fighting chance."

Negan looked at her in admiration. "It takes a strong woman to fight that hard for something."

"I wanted to be a mother more than anything else in the world."

"And you made it happen."

"I did. Twice." She smiled at the memory, remembering how ecstatic she felt both times she got that call from her doctor telling her she was pregnant. It seemed like a lifetime ago. And it actually was. A whole different world from the one she was  
living in now.

The conversation lulled and they returned to their food. Negan watched Fiona eating and was so thrilled to see she was enjoying it. He loved to please her, he realized. And not just sexually. It gave him a sense of purpose. And it finally brought  
meaning to his otherwise lonely and selfish existence.

Fiona walked over to the stove where the food was keeping warm. "Want to split another burger?"

"Did you eat like this in your past life?" he teased, leaning back in his chair and eyeing her keenly-those slim legs, toned calves and the rest of her petite slender body which was hidden beneath his shirt but which he now knew by heart.

"Yes."

"Nothing sexier than a woman who can down a burger alongside her man."

Was he referring to himself as her man? Or was he speaking hypothetically? Fiona wasn't going to overanalyze. She was just going to continue enjoying the moment and the food. "So are we splitting one or not?" She stole a fry off the baking tray  
and popped it in her mouth.

"I'd love to. But you better slow down, lil miss, because if you fall into a food coma I'm still going to ravish you."

"No worries. I can hold my food." She sat back down and lifted her empty wine glass. "But alcohol on the other hand? That's a whoooooole 'nother story."

He lifted an accusatory eyebrow. "Are you drunk?"

"No."

"Buzzing?"

"A little."

"So what kind of drunk are you?"

"A giggly one. Relaxed. Loose."

"Kinky?"

Fiona shrugged. "You're talking restraints and stuff?" She pretended to think it over. "Perhaps... Never took it that far, though." She rested her chin in her hand and smiled seductively.

Negan grinned from ear to ear,reaching for the wine bottle. "Want more?"

"I'd love some."

She held up her glass and he refilled it. "So what kind of drunk are YOU?"

"Horny, dangerous, rough." His eyes bore into her as he answered.

"So you'll tie me up, then?"

"You want me to?"

"I don't think I'd mind it."

Negan laughed and shook his head. He was getting way too turned on but now wasn't the time. He needed to save it for later. "Ok you're definitely more than justbuzzing. Because the girl I took hostage that first night would never be asking me  
to tie her up in restraints."

"I'm not drunk." She took another sip of wine and boldly met his gaze over the rim of the wineglass. "Yet."

He held up a warning finger. "Stop it,gorgeous. I'm two seconds away from dragging you upstairs. Then you won't be finishing that burger."

Her eyes widened at the thought. That was one threat she didn't want to call his bluff on. The food was way too good to gamble with. Or to sacrifice for another round of perfectly hot sex. She quickly dropped the seduction act and changed the subject.

"So how did you form the Saviors?"

"Well, like your group I'm sure, we started out small then kept on growing. Carla and her daughter were the first people I came across after the... Outbreak. Iwas so determined to make it on my own but a part of me just couldn't abandon them...  
I guess I saw it as my penance. A chance for redemption.. I don't know. I was pretty fucked up back then and not quite sure what the hell was going through my mind."

"When did you start the alpha male bullying act?"

"As soon as our numbers were big enough. We knew we were strong. And smart. And could get what we wanted simply from scare tactics."

"I'm surprised a woman like Carla was on board with it."

"She knew it was our onlyway to survive. She had Nikki to think of. And as you know, a mother would do anything for her children."

"How many people have you killed?"

Negan hesitated before answering. He was sure she'd heard the horror stories going around about him-some true, some false-and that Rick and Daryl had poisoned her mind about him. Yet she was still coming back to him each week and she was here  
had to count for something. Besides this was who he was. And he wasn't going to start lying to her now.

"A lot." He looked at her curiously. "Does that change things?"

"No,because I was already aware of it."

"And it doesn't repulse you or make you angry?"

"I like to think you had your reasons and it wasn't just in cold blood. Just like most of the people Rick and my other friends have killed."

Negan had no response for that. Because he didn't quite think her reasons were on the same wavelength as his.

"How many have you killed since you met me?" Fiona asked.

He had to think about that and was somewhat shocked when he realized the answer. "None." Had the opportunities just not presented themselves or had she somehow started to change him and his way of thinking?

Her lips curved up in a small smile. "Why's that?"

He shrugged cockily. "Probably because I'm spending my free time having sex instead of going on killing sprees."

"Riiiight. So it's my fault." Fiona stood up, put her empty plate in the sink then wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. She kissed his earlobe and said, "That's fine. I'm more than happy to take the blame, however way you choose to spin it."

Negan grabbed her wrists and turned his face around to hers. "You really think it's because of you?" His gaze was hard, intense, and unreadable and for a brief second Fiona worried she had gone too far. But then her confidence in what she felt for  
him and what she believed he felt for her returned full force.

"Yes. I do."

The staring match continued. Negan searched those brilliant blue eyes of hers and soon found himself drowning in them. Of course it was because of her. He was changing. Whether he liked it or not. He was becoming a different man. A man who would eventually  
be worthy of a woman like her.

He released her wrists, stood up, and pulled her back into him. Looking down at her, he traced her cheek with his thumb and finally his hard gaze shattered and a shy smile of surrender replaced it. "You're right," he whispered, leaning down  
to kiss her. "I don't know if I should curse you or thank you."

"Just do what you do best," Fiona murmured, standing on her tiptoes to grab his hair and pull him closer. She pressed her body against his, making it evident what she wanted. Dinner was over, it had been fabulous, but now she was ready for dessert.

"Guess that means you want dessert?" he asked, reading her mind.

"Mmmmmmm."

His lips found her jaw, then her neck. "Unfortunately chocolate donuts aren't on the menu."

"I'm not craving chocolate donuts." Her fingers clawed at the waist of his jeans but his hands stilled her.

"I promised to get you upstairs. I won't make it again if you keep this up."

With an exaggerated huff, Fiona stepped away. "Fine, old man. You sit there, compose yourself and your little friend and I'll do the dishes." She took his plate and empty wine glass off the table and placed them in the sink. "Naked, perhaps?" she  
added, winking at him. She made a show of unbuttoning a few buttons so the shirt fell off her shoulder, exposing the soft round swell of one breast. Then she turned and began soaping the plates and utensils.

Between her teasing words and flirty actions, Negan couldn't, for the life of him, compose  
himself. He got even more worked up instead. He pressed his large frame against her, grinding his hips to hers and tugged her shirt down hard, popping the rest of the buttons. He pulled it off her arms. "No one bluffs around me and gets away with  
it, gorgeous," he said with a smirk, leaning against the counter as he admired her naked body in profile. "Now this here is a vision I'll never get out of my head."

Fiona reached for the shirt but he flung it over his shoulder and out of her reach. "You said you would do the dishes naked. NOW you're naked."

She was well aware of his eyes on her and it turned her on immensely. Ignoring the dampness growing between her thighs and the ache in her breasts she did her best to focus on the task at hand.

"You know what?" he drawled. "From now on, I don't think I'll even lend you my shirt. Having you walk around like this suits you so much better. And makes me hard as a fucking rock," he added, leaning over to whisper in her ear.

Fiona playfully flipped him her middle finger and he slapped her ass in return.

"I'll be upstairs waiting for you, gorgeous. Don't take too long." 


	36. Chapter 36

Thanks to Rasha for pointing out theerror in mylast chapter. Negan did kill one person since meeting Fiona -Zander who was raping her.

I still don't think it counts though ;-) j/k

Have to go back and rewrite that part soon! Thanks again! See? This is why I love feedback! 

* * *

Once the last dish was drying in the dishdrain, Fiona shut off the kitchen lights and headed upstairs. Her flannel shirt was resting across the bottom of the bannister and she slipped it back on only because she was cold. With any luck it would be  
coming right off again once she got under the covers.

Negan was sitting up in bed. He looked up and smiled when he saw her leaning against the door wearing his shirt again. A part of him had been hoping she would come up naked. "Cold?"

"A little."

"There's only one cure for that." He patted the bed beside her and flashed a seductive grin.

Fiona brought a fist to her mouth. "Lame," she coughed, making fun of his come-on.

He pretended to be offended. "Oh, now you don't want it?"

"I never said that."

"Playing hard to get then." He got off the bed and advanced towards her. "I don't like working for what I want."

"That's obvious."

He chuckled at her verbal quip but knew he set himself up for it. He pulled her into his arms and leaned over to kiss her. It was a slow, gentle kiss and not the kind she was used to from him. Looking down at her, he tenderly brushed her cheek, all  
signs of jesting gone. "You gave me a pretty good scare today, you know that? I thought... I thought I had lost you."

Fiona met his gaze and saw it was troubled. "I was stupid and careless. I'm sorry." She shrugged pathetically. "I was just so happy and relieved to see you that I forgot where I was and what I was doing for a second... I had been so worried about  
you when you didn't show at the gas station."

To hear her confess to being worried about him and then to being so happy to see him made him warm all over. Her innocence and her honesty gave him butterflies.

But what the fuck?

A grown man wasn't supposed to get butterflies.

He wasn't a teenager and this wasn't his first crush.

Yet it was a woman who made him made him feel those familiar emotions all over again, after many years without.

"I can't... lose you, gorgeous...You mean too fucking much to me." His voice hitched as he pressed her head against his chest and embraced her tightly. "You got it?"

Shocked by his confession, Fiona's heart swelled. "Loud and clear." She hugged him back, and they stood entwined that way until she pulled away. She cupped his face and with tears in her eyes, said, "Make love to me tonight, Negan."

He looked at her for the longest time and felt his own eyes grow watery at her request and the way she said his name. He hadn't made love to a woman since his wife and that had been a long four years ago. And after that, he swore he never would to  
any woman ever again. But here he was, with one who somehow changed his whole philosophy on life and love.

And yes he was falling in love with her.

Even though it wasnt something he was ready to say aloud yet, he could still show her by his actions. And that was exactly what he was going to do.

He kissed her again, and this time gently slid her shirt off her shoulders, letting it drop to her feet. Then he lifted her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. "I may be rusty," he admitted, voice cracking again with emotion as he lay  
her down on the pillows. His heart was thundering in his chest and whatever slight panic or anxiety he thought he was feeling quickly transformed into desire as he pulled off his shirt and covered her body with his.

"Do your best," Fiona said, sliding her palms up his chest to link behind his neck before pulling him back down for more kisses. "I'm sure it will be phenomenal."

Negan smiled, her compliment giving him confidence, and went right to work, his lips and hands showering her body with soft, sensual kisses and caresses. From top to bottom he went, then slowly back up again, meticulous as to not miss even one inch  
of bare skin.

He loved her body.

Petite frame, slender limbs, flat stomach, small breasts, and every muscle toned.

He remembered admiring it that night in the forest clearing. Even though she had been fully clothed, his imagination had created the perfect canvas underneath and it hadn't disappointed him once he got a taste and feel for the real thing.

He dwarfed her, his body twice her size and strength, and he loved her vulnerability. But her size was deceiving and she always held her own against him, a worthy partner.

Fiona closed her eyes and reveled in his touch. He was everywhere all at once, his mouth and fingers tracing slow paths of fire across her skin. She was burning for him, dying to feel him inside her again, but then remembered she had specifically  
asked for this.

And he was delivering.

Oh, was he delivering.

Her fingers played over his back, up and down every dip and curve of muscle before moving onto his shoulders, so strong and chiseled. Finally they went to his belt and he didn't seem to mind when she unbuckled it and slid down the zipper on  
his jeans. He stopped his appreciation of her body only long enough to kick off the rest of his restricting clothes and then immediately resumed where he had left off.

She felt him, hard and strong and hot against her thigh and she guided him between her legs.

He lifted his head and smiled. "I guess that means you're ready for me?"

"I'm always ready for you."

"Good answer," he murmured, returning his lips to hers. His kisses remained slow yet sensual, and when he finally entered her, it was in one fluid movement that joined them almost effortlessly.

They moved together as one, and each time he pulled out, her hips arched to meet his as he gently pushed back in. The gradual buildup was incredible, and Fiona had a feeling it was going to lead to one amazing orgasm. Each time she felt like she was  
on the verge, he slowed things down, only to eventually work her right up again.

As he moved above her, so strong yet so gentle, he stared down into those mesmerizing eyes which were gazing up at him adoringly. He wanted to tell her how he truly felt. It was on the tip of his tongue. And he had hoped once he was drunk enough with  
desire he would loosen up and be able to say it.

But he still couldn't do it.

He brushed her lips with his thumb, trailing it along her jawline. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "And you're mine."

"I'm yours," she breathed. "Always."

Her words echoed in his ears, thrilling him. Even without exchanging the "L" word, they were still on the same page. And there would be plenty of time to take things to the next level. For now, he was ready to bring them both to climax.

"Ok gorgeous, let's do this."

His thrusts became stronger and deeper and Fiona lifted her hips, moving in sync with him. She grabbed the back of his hair and never broke his gaze, loving the way those dark eyes were so intensely focused on her, and only her. She felt the tension  
coiling in her belly, tighter and tighter. Then he hit the perfect spot and that's all it took to catapult her over the edge into an abyss of ecstasy.

She trembled in his arms, saw him smile at her briefly before she closed her eyes and let the hazy waves of pleasure wash her away. His lips touched down on the base of her throat and then she felt his body stiffen as he let go. He groaned deeply  
against her neck and even in her pleasure- drunken haze Fiona thought it was the sexiest sound she had ever heard. He continued to hold her tightly until the last of his seed had been spent and he found the strength to lift his head and smile  
wearily at her.

"How is it this gets better every time?"

Fiona smiled back at him, basking in the compliment. "We're good."

"We're good together," he corrected. "Come live here with me." The request had escaped his mouth before he could stop it. Since he couldn't take it back, he continued to plead his case. "Be my partner, gorgeous, my right hand woman, the Sanctuary's  
doctor...you know it would work..."

Fiona's lips parted in shock as she inhaled softly. She couldn't believe he was asking that of her.  
She wanted to say yes. Of course she would say yes. But how could she say yes? Her mind was spinning as a a zillion different emotions fought for supremacy. He was still lying over her, and that handsome face which she could never seem to say no to  
was gazing at her so tenderly.

"Think about it." He placed a kiss on her lips. "You don't have to answer right away."

He began to roll over but she stopped him, taking hold of his shoulders. "Yes. Of course my answer is yes. I may just need time to ease the transition."

Negan grinned in satisfaction. "Was hoping you'd say that."

He leaned over to kiss her again but she stopped him and pushed back against his chest gently. "It has to be under one condition, though."

He raised an intimidating eyebrow and for a split second she cowered beneath him and almost lost her nerve. But then she reminded herself this was the man who just made love to her in the most incredibly tender way and she had nothing to fear.

"You leave Alexandria alone," she finished, in what she hoped was a confident voice. "You have to stop exploiting and threateningthem. Or... like I suggested earlier today, we set up a compromise and all work together somehow."

Negan didn't respond immediately. He wasn't completely blindsided by the request and a part of him always knew it was coming, he just didn't know when. Regardless, he wasn't quite prepared for it. "That's a pretty big fucking demand," he said, his  
voice low and expression unreadable.

Fiona's heart skipped a nervous beat then continued at a steady gallop. She had passed the point of no return now. There was no going back. "Guess you'll have to ask yourself if I'm worth it." She reached for him under the covers and started to stroke  
him but his hand clamped down over her wrist to still her.

"This isn't a game."

"I never said or thought it was." She looked at him accusingly. "What do you think I'm playing at?"

He didn't answer right away. He was a jaded pessimist by nature and now paranoia was settling in on top of it all. Was this whole thing a setup from the beginning? Seduce him, get him to fall for her and then manipulate him into backing off her community?  
Was she still fucking Rick, or Daryl or both of them and this was their sick plan? He tried to block out the intrusive, negative thoughts, not wanting to believe them but they kept bombarding him mercilessly.

"I practically poured my heart out to you earlier, made fucking love to you and just asked you to move in with me."

"And I said yes!" Fiona pushed him away angrily, annoyed at his tone of voice and the way he was suddenly picking a fight, and scooted out of bed. Picking up her shirt from the floor she threw it on and turned back to face him while she buttoned it.  
"I want to be with you more than anything. If you don't know that by now I'm not sure how else to prove it to you. Whatever trust issues you may have, get over them and fast, because I don't tolerate people who question my integrity."

"We're not done here," he warned as she approached the door.

"Come down when you've cooled off. Then we'll finish."

She left the room, leaving him alone in bed.

Fiona was finishing up a glass of wine when she heard Negan on the stairs. She had needed the alcohol to calm her nerves and clear her head. But all it had done was muddle her thoughts and emotions. She kept going back and forth from being mad at  
him to mad at herself. She shouldn't have pushed him. She knew the way he was when she got involved with him and hadn't Rick been the one to warn her that tigers don't change their stripes? Had she been that naive to believe she could actually  
change someone like him? But yes, she had believed he could change. He HAD changed, in the short amount of time she had gotten to know him and fall in love with him.

That's why his reaction had hit her where it hurt the most.

He thought she had a hidden agenda. Even though he didn't say it in quite so many words, he thought she was using him.

How could he truly believe that?

She drained her glass just as he joined her in the living room. She got up to refill it but he stopped her, taking it from her hands.

"I got it."

Negan poured her another as well as a scotch for himself then joined her on the couch. He took a few swigs, letting it burn his throat and waiting for it to give him the courage to say what he needed to. He glanced over at her but she was staring  
blankly into her drink, streaks of dried tears staining her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Fiona," he said quietly.

It wasn't even those two simple words, or the fact he was apologizing, but it was how he used her name that brought fresh tears to her eyes.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "I hate seeing you cry, gorgeous. And I hate being the cause of it. I'm an asshole. I didn't mean what I said up there and I hope you believe that. I just... I... You gotta understand this is all new to me again,  
it's been so fucking long and honestly it scares the shit outta me... I guess I just panicked and reverted back to my old ways..."

He looked at her but she didn't respond. She continued to stare at her glass and he watched as a single slow tear trickled down her cheek. He wanted so badly to wipe it away but was afraid she'd slap him. Hell, he'd deserve it. He deserved a lot more.

"Yell at me, curse me out, but say something," he begged desperately. "Please."

"After everything I've done to be with you and all the lies I've told to the people I love... How can you not see I'm in this 100%?" She finally met his gaze and the hurt he saw there behind her eyes was heartbreaking. "How can you doubt me?"

"I don't trust people... I haven't for a long time... But then you came into my life and everything changed. I trust YOU... I..." He trailed off, still unable to say the L word. "I swear it on my sweet, precious Sarah..." His voice cracked as  
reached over for her hand while taking another swig of his drink to keep from crying.

Fiona looked down at his big hand covering hers and slid her fingers between his. "I'm sorry, too," she said quietly after a few moments, her anger softening into understanding and forgiveness. "Maybe I worded it wrong or it came off sounding  
like an ultimatum which is why you freaked out...I just want you to understand that I'd be abandoning my family to make a life with you here, so I'd need something to make the transition a little easier for them to accept."

"I do understand...And you're right."

"Not that they ever would, accept it-accept US- that is...But at least I'd leave with somewhat of a clean conscience."

Negan could tell the thought saddened her. That she'd be exiled and ostracized and lose everyone she cared about. "They have to find out sooner or later, regardless if you come stay here or not...you have to tell them eventually."

"I know...It's just easier said than done."

"We are due for a pickup there in a week or two. I'll have a sit down with Rick and we will figure something out."

The surprised look of gratitude in her beautiful blue eyes melted his heart. "Thank you."

Negan pulled her into his arms and held her close. She curled up against him and rested her head on his shoulder. He ran his hand lightly up and down her arm and kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry I was such a dick. And for all those dickish  
things I said to you. I didn't mean them."

"I was hoping you didn't."

His fingers grazed her chin, turning her head up to face him. He looked at her for the longest time before he said softly, "Making love to you was incredible. And I hope I have the privilege of doing it again soon."

His words brought a shy smile to her face. "Whenever you like." She slid her leg across his lap and sat up, straddling him so she could better reach those lips which she was so addicted to. She kissed him softly then caressed his stubble lined cheek.  
"THIS was our first fight", she murmured against his mouth. "And I don't ever want to have another."

"Me neither."

He pulled her back for another kiss, deeper and harder, his emotions from the past hour running haywire and causing his blood to pulse with a nervous energy. He wanted her again. His body was making damn sure he was well aware of it, too, because  
his cock was stiff and aching and he couldn't ignore it if he tried.

Fiona felt him hard and ready between her thighs. Looking down at the bulge in his track pants, she smiled mischievously. "How is it he's raring to go and it's only been an hour?"

Negan slipped his hands under her shirt and cupped her breasts. "He can't get enough of you."

Their lips met again, then their tongues, and Fiona began grinding herself against him, desperate to feel him without the constricting layers of clothes separating them. "Does this mean we are going another round?" She groaned as he slipped her shirt  
off her shoulder and took a breast into his mouth.

"I don't think we have a choice."

"We can take a cold shower."

"Why the fuck would I choose a cold shower over your warm...wet...tight..." He left the rest unsaid and flashed her a rakish grin before returning his lips to her one nipple, then the other, and then back to her mouth. Fiona was now just  
as turned on as he was. She reached inside his pants, pulled him out and settled herself over the long, hard length of him.

Negan groaned and grabbed her hips before she started to move. Resting his forehead against hers, he looked down at her, his expression and tone of voice serious again. "I hope I've redeemed myself and also answered your question."

She stared at him blankly.

"You're worth it, gorgeous. So fucking worth it." 


	37. Chapter 37

Once again thanks for all the feedback!

To clear a few things up-

One reviewer mentioned Negan's wives and asked what would happen to them when Fiona moved in. He doesn't have wives in my story (they surely would have made an appearance by now if he did! Lol). I don't read the comics and in my disclaimer I mentioned  
I would be taking liberties with Negan's character etc. I hope that doesn't disappoint anyone.

Secondly, someone said Negan is being unrealisticallynice and out of character. Again, I wrote him a little different than he supposedly is. This is my owninterpretation of him I guess, or a different angle of what his character COULD be.  
(That's why it's called fiction). We haven't seen him on TV yet and since I don't read the comics I didn't have much to go by. I just knew I wanted him to have some humanity left inside himand I wanted my character to help draw it out.

Hope this explains my thought processes and reasons... :-)

Thanks again to all my followers and reviewers. Keep the questions and commentscoming! 

* * *

The incessant ringing of the doorbell woke Negan out of a very comfortable sleep. He was warm and cozy spooning with Fiona and had been having the most wonderful dream. Cursing under his breath at whoever it was who not only pulled him out of that  
dream but also out of Fiona's arms, he detangled his limbs from hers, threw back the covers and quietly got out of bed, careful not to wake her. She stirred slightly, rolled over, but remained asleep. He admired her for a second, her blond hair  
splayed out over the pillow, long dark eyelashes against the ivory skin of her cheeks, and one slender leg peeking out from beneath the sheets.

She was a vision. And she was his.

He was still having trouble believing it.

He was being given a second chance, one he certainly didn't deserve.

Pulling on his pants, he made his way downstairs and opened the door to find a nervous looking Trevor standing there. "Sorry to wake you boss, but I think we have a problem. Dwight, Rocco and Dave never returned from Hilltop yesterday."

Negan's brow furrowed as he tried to process the news. "But they went..."

"Early afternoon."

Right. He had sent them alone because he had gone to meet Fiona. Then he had gotten so distracted and caught up with her that he had completely forgotten to follow up later that evening to see if they had returned safely and with adequate supplies.

"Fuckkk." He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his eyes. He was still half asleep and wasn't thinking straight. "You sure they didn't come back and just went out again this morning?"

Trevor shook his head. "Their women came to me this morning, pretty worried that they never came home last night."

Negan cursed again. "Okay. Let me get dressed. I'll swing by to get you in fifteen minutes. Do you think we need to bring extra men along?"

"A part of me says yes but who the fuck knows. I just don't have a good feeling about this."

"I wish someone had come to me sooner."

"We didn't know."

"I should have checked last night... I completely forgot... I was..." He was going to say distracted but figured that wasn't a good thing for a leader with his caliber of responsibility to admit aloud.

Trevor knew he had brought the pretty doctor home with him last night. Peter had seen her getting out of his truck yesterday and word had spread like wildfire around the community. Most people were ambivalent because they knew she had worked hard  
trying to save Bryson, a few women were green with simple jealousy, but there were still a small few of Zander's close friends who rankled at the news.

"Doesn't matter," Trevor said, letting him off the hook. "Let's just get over there and see if we can fix it."

"Fifteen minutes," Negan reminded him, then shut the door and went back upstairs. He took a quick shower, his mind racing with possible scenarios as to what could have detained them, none of them good. He wasn't in the mood for any trouble today and  
hoped to hell he would be able to resolve the issue, whatever it was, quickly and easily.

He got dressed, brushed his teeth then went to wake Fiona.

He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep, his mouth curving into a small smile.

She must have sensed him because she opened her eyes and smiled dreamily at him. But as she continued to fully awaken, she realized he was clean, dressed and had his jacket on, as if ready to go. Her eyes widened in panic. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He smiled down at her and brushed her hair away from her face. "I just have to run to Hilltop with Trevor. There may be a slight situation and I need to go."

"Is everything okay?"

"Dwight and two other of my men never came home last night. They were supposed to do the pickup when I left to come and meet you at the gas station."

She cursed under her breath. "This is all my fault. You should have never-"

He placed a finger over her lips to silence her. "Shut up. Last night was incredible and I don't regret it for a second. My men are grown boys. They should be able to take care of themselves. I just need to go make sure Hilltop isn't acting out of  
line, that's all."

Fiona didn't like the sound of that. Any confrontational situation that put him in danger was a possibility he could get hurt, or worse. No matter how much she reminded herself he was doing this long before she met him, and word was he was very good  
at what he did, it still made her extremely nervous.

She got out of bed, dragging the sheet with her to keep it wrapped around her body. "How will I get back to Alexandria? I can't stay here another night."

"I'm going to leave a car out front for you, keys in the ignition. It's one of our extras." He stepped up to her, pulling her into his arms. "You can drive it back here the day you move all your stuff in."

Grinning at the thought, he gave her a sweet, thorough kiss which they both knew was unfortunately going to have to last them awhile. "Meet me at the gas station next Friday, gorgeous. We'll have one last treehouse rendezvous before the weather gets  
too cold. I promise I wont be late this time."

"I'll be there."

"Take your time here, shower, eat something and head out when you're ready," he said, finally finding the strength to release her. "Do you know the way back?"

Fiona nodded then reached out for his hand, stopping him. "Be careful. Please."

Negan looked down at her small hand in his and smiled. "Now that I have a reason to be, I most certainly will." He touched his fingers to his lips and blew her a kiss when he got to the door.

She watched him go, hating the feeling of helplessness and worry that went along with caring so much for someone. She said a quick prayer that he would return safely and then set about getting herself ready to head back home. 

* * *

Neganbanged on Hilltop's gate with Lucille. There were people milling about, doing their tasks and he knew they saw him but continued to ignore him. "Somebody better open this fucking gate before there's trouble!" he yelled, starting to get  
pissed off.

A man herding a cow out to the pasture spoke to him as he passed. "Relax, asshole. Gregory knows you're here."

"Fuck you. I'd love to see if you have the balls to speak to me like that once this gate is opened."

The man didn't respond. He just calmly kept walking towards the field, murmuring sweetly to the cow while rubbing her side.

Negan's patience was wearing thin. He was about to call out again when he saw Hilltop's leader striding towards him from the big house. With his shock of gray hair combed neatly back off his forehead and his pressed navy suit, he looked more like  
he belonged on Wall Street than on a farm. He smiled condescendingly as he stepped up to the gate. "Was expecting you last night. You getting sloppy, big guy? Or were you too busy fucking your whore of the week?"

Negan let the insults slide. "Where are my men and my supplies?"

"Your men are being held prisoner. Come take a walk with me and I'll explain." He motioned to Negan's bat and Trevor's pistol. "But leave those weapons in your truck."

"So you can ambush us? Fuck no. We aren't coming in unarmed."

"We're a peaceful people," Gregory said. "We won't attack unless forced to."

Negan hesitated, but did as Gregory asked only because he needed to get his men back, and Trevor followed suit.

The gate was opened, allowing them through, and then locked again behind them.

"What happened?" Negan pressed. Gregory's calm demeanor was irritating. From the day he first met him, he wanted more than anything to take Lucille and bash his brains out. Just so he'd never have to deal with him, his air of superiority and his fucking  
bullshit ever again.

"I'm going to let them tell you."

They crossed the field and made their way uphill towards the outdoor stables. Sure enough, there were Dwight, Rocco and Billy, tied up with their hands bound around wooden columns.

Negan stormed over to them. "What the fuck happened? And you better fuckin' tell it to me straight."

Dwight, being the most senior of the three, bravely lifted his eyes to Negan and spoke up. "The deal was we were supposed to get some of that there pig." He motioned with his head to the few fat pigs rollicking in the mud pen across the way.

"The pig isn't ready for slaughter," Gregory stated calmly.

Dwight glared at him. "My boss told you it was, last time he was here."

"Your boss knows shit about livestock, and everything else for that matter," Gregory replied, flashing a smug smile at Negan. "We aren't going to slaughter an animal before it reaches its full capability. And especially not because HE says to."

Now Negan was starting to lose patience. "What the fuck happened?" he asked Dwight again, his tone low and menacing.

"Rocco took out his axe and tried to gut the pig himself."

Negan threw his head back and chuckled. "At least someone knows how to fucking follow orders." He took a step closer to Gregory, towering over him. "You don't tie up my men. I thought our deal was clear from the beginning. We take what we want in  
exchange for your protection."

"I don't think I like that deal anymore."

Negan narrowed his eyes and stared Gregory down for the longest time. "You don't have a choice."

"I think we do. We have your men."

"Fuck them. They're expendable."

Dwight, Rocco and Billy exchanged nervous glances.

"We have protection from Rick and Alexandria now," Gregory continued. "And theyare teaching us to fight walkers. We don't need you or your goons anymore. Winter is coming and I have enough mouths to feed without catering to free-loaders like  
yourself."

As if by magic, a group of ten people appeared, surrounding Negan and Trevor. They were all holding some form of farming tool, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary.

Gregory saw the brief flicker of panic that crossed Negan's face and smiled smugly. "I suggest you leave quietly and we won't have to start a war. And if you think about coming back with an army, we will be ready."

"We can overtake you and this community in a heartbeat." Negan motioned his hand to the group that had surrounded them. "These innocent people aren't fighters. Why would you subject them to such danger? Because your fucking ego takes precedence? What  
a joke. And you call yourself a leader. They'd be better off with me."

Now it was Gregory's turn to laugh. "You're delusional if you think anyone wants to be a part of the mess you've created." He walked over to his prisoners. "I'm going to do the right thing and untie your men now. You have five minutes to do the right  
thing in return and get off my property."

Negan stood there, jaw clenched, weighing his options. Amazingly, it was only Fiona's voice he heard telling him his style was outdated and that he needed to consider making compromises instead of enemies if he wanted to survive the winter.

Dwight, Rocco and Billy came to stand beside Trevor, and the four of them looked to him for guidance. He knew they would start attacking if he asked them to. But they didn't have weapons and were sorely outnumbered.

"Let's go boys," he said turning to leave and surprising them, because after suffering the humiliation of being tied up and held prisoner for almost twenty four hours, they were not only itching for a fight, but for revenge.

The sound of a gun being cocked beside his head made everyone freeze.

Jesus, who had quietly snuck up behind them, had a pistol aimed at Negan's temple and addressed Gregory angrily. "You can't let them leave! They will come back and destroy us and everything we've built here! Don't you see that!?"

Gregory held out his hands calmly. "Jesus, put the gun down."

" him gone, there will be no more threat! I'm so sick of living in fear day in and day out!"

"Killing him won't end anything," Gregory tried to reason. "His people will rally against us."

"No they won't. They are too stupid and disorganized. They are nothing without him. This is the perfect chance to kill this motherfucker. He deserves to die after all the hell he's put us and everyone else through!"

Jesus wasn't aware of Dwight inching closer and closer to him until Dwight's hand came up hard, pushing his arm away from Negan's head and towards Gregory instead. His finger had been on the trigger the whole time, ready to shoot, and the sudden movement  
caused the gun to go off accidentally. It hit Gregory in the chest right over his heart.

A stunned silence fell over the crowd for the briefest of seconds before shouts and wails took over and chaos prevailed. Jesus fell to his knees beside the injured Gregory, whose chest wound was gushing blood. He was gasping for breath, trying to  
talk, but Jesus kept silencing him, holding his hands against the wound and trying desperately to staunch the bleeding.

Negan approached them warily. "What can I do to help? Is your doctor around?"

Jesus looked at him murderously with wild, crazy eyes. "Get out of here now. Because I'm two seconds away from grabbing that gun and blowing your fucking brains out like I wanted to five minutes ago."

"This gun?" Rocco taunted, aiming it at Jesus and grinning.

"Enough!" Negan scolded him, grabbing the gun from his hand. "Stop with the fucking games!" Tossing one last look over his shoulder at Gregory bleeding out on the grass he said, "Let's get out of here. They obviously don't want our help."

Two people had come with a makeshift stretcher just as Negan turned to walk off. They loaded a bleeding and unconscious Gregory onto it and whisked him off. Jesus stood up, soaked with blood and watched the Saviors leave through the gate. He should  
have killed Negan when he had the chance. He had the perfect shot. Gregory would have been mad at him for a few days but would have gotten over it eventually. Now Gregory was dead ( or pretty damn close to it) and Negan was leaving unscathed,  
free to keep on terrorizing and taking food from their mouths.

He was not going to let it keep on happening.

He vowed right then and there that he was going to avenge Gregory's death.

And he was somehow, hopefully with the help of Alexandria, going to end Negan once and for all. 

* * *

Negan had a bad feeling as he climbed into his truck with his men and drove off.

If Gregory was dead, and odds were he was, it was a pretty big deal. Even if he himself hadn't pulled the trigger, it had happened during an altercation with him and his men so they were most likely going to get blamed for it.

Which meant he needed to take action and try to come to terms with Alexandria sooner rather than later before they banded together with Hilltop and tried to start a war. Not that he didn't have confidence in his group's fighting ability, but once  
again Fiona's voice was all he heard in his head, telling him things should and could be different.

He had a reason to want to live now. A reason to care about his own survival. And he couldn't keep putting himself in harms' way anymore. His days of being selfish were gone once he decided to open his heart again.

Which was why he was going to call a meeting with his people over the next day or so and tell them things were going to start changing.

And whoever didn't like itor refused to help make those changes would notbe asked ,but told,to pack their things andleave. 


	38. Chapter 38

A brown Jeep Wrangler was speeding down the drive towards Alexandria. Abraham recognized the car as belonging to Jesus from Hilltop so he hurried down to open the gate , waving the car through. A bloody and frantic Jesus stepped out, and Abraham was afraid  
to ask what had happened. So instead he said, "What do you need?"

"Rick, Daryl and anyone else who calls the shots around here."

"Rick's actually in his house right now. Head on down there, number 24 on the left, and I'll send word to Daryl to meet you guys."

"Thanks." Jesus hurried off and Abraham walkie-talkied Sasha to grab Daryl on her way over for her shift.

When Jesus got to Rick's house, Daryl was already hot on his heels. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly, joining him on the porch.

"Fucking Negan, that's what." Jesus rang the bell and Michonne answered. She saw the sorry state Jesus was in and the worried look on Daryl's face and let them right in, no questions asked. Rick was in the kitchen feeding Judith. He looked up and frowned.  
"What now?"

"Can we talk? The four of us? And anyone else whose counsel you value."

"These two here are my right hand men," Rick said motioning to Daryl and Michonne. "Have a seat. We can talk freely because Carl is out with Maggie helping her in the fields with some heavy lifting."

Only Michonne sat down across from Rick. Jesus continued to pace the kitchen like a caged animal and Daryl perched against the counter nervously. He had no idea what Jesus was up in arms about but if it came out that Fiona wasn't at Hilltop last night,  
he was screwed.

"Gregory is dead."

All three sets of eyes shot up to him in surprise.

"Oh my god," Rick said quietly. "I'm so sorry to hear that... Is that who Fiona was helping out with?"

Jesus looked at him blankly. "What?"

"Fiona spent the night at Hilltop helping your doctor."

"No she didn't. Nobody was injured until Gregory today."

Rick shot a glare across the room at Daryl. "Then where the hell was she?"

Daryl grappled desperately for any quick excuse he could come up with but Jesus saved him the burden of answering by directing them back to the subject at hand. "Negan shot him. In cold blood. There was an altercation over one of our pigs. He was there  
with a few of his goons and things turned ugly. We need to take him down and you have to help us. He's a loose cannon and has no sense of morality. We can't keep living this way. He needs to die."

Daryl was so shocked by the news he forgot for the moment he was in deep trouble with Rick.

Negan killed Gregory? In cold blood?

A part of him was skeptical Jesus was telling the truth. Or had twisted the truth around somehow to better serve his cause. And how could Negan be at Hilltop this morning if Fiona had been with him overnight?

"So he killed Gregory over a pig?" Daryl asked, in an attempt at clarification.

Jesus rolled his eyes impatiently. "Are you even half-listening to what I'm saying? It was more than that. No point going into the details. Bottom line is we are going to run out of supplies for the winter if we don't take action soon. You know it and  
I know it. We have a lot of mouths to feed between our two communities."

Rick had been sitting quietly, trying to process everything. When he finally spoke, he asked a very logical question. "We alreadytried to kill him for youand couldn't get close to him. How the hell do you propose we do it this time around?"

"He has to have a weakness. And I'm gonna find out what it is."

Daryl weighed his options. He had a feeling this moment would come. When he would be forced to choose between the good of not only his community but his family, and Fiona. He kept trying to tell himself she had no future with Negan. They could never live  
happily ever after because nobody approved of their relationship. So she was fighting a losing battle. One that would be futile even trying to help her fight.

Jesus was right, he realized glumly. They needed to remove the threat of Negan if they ever wanted to live in peace. And supplies were definitely going to run out if they kept giving him half. They had a pregnant woman on top of everything else to think  
of and to feed.

Fiona was being the selfish one, he rationalized. She was a traitor and lying to the people who loved her. He couldn't and wouldn't be her accomplice anymore. Losing Negan would be hard but she would get over it eventually. And hopefully still be  
welcome in Alexandria after everything was said and done.

Rick, Michonne and Jesus were brainstorming ideas and plans, but Daryl was only half-listening to them.

When he finally found the courage to speak up, he barely recognized his own voice.

"I know his weakness...And I know exactly when and where to take him down." 

* * *

Rick desperately needed to break something.

He grabbed Michonne's sword from where she left it in the front hallway and stormed off to the far end of the housing complex which had never been developed. He began slashing angrily, wildly, at bushes, tree branches, anything in his way that he could  
hit and destroy. The rage he was feeling was indescribable, and he needed to deflect most of it before he ran into Fiona and lost his cool.

Because he could not, under any circumstances, let her know that he now knew her dirty little secret. For their plan to work, she had to carry on, business as usual. As much as it hurt him to do so, because all he wanted was to give her a big fucking  
piece of his mind, he had to hold his tongue. Which was why he was hoping this physical venting session would help.

He kept replaying Daryl's words over and over in his head.

Fiona and Negan.

Fucking.

That night he stayed here at Alexandria.

Her meeting him multiple times after that and lying to the group about her whereabouts.

Getting Daryl involved and having him lie for her, too.

It was almost too much to believe.

But when he took into consideration her distance towards him, her lack of emotion and affection, and the chemistry she seemed to have with Negan, it all made perfect sense.

Rick wanted to be mad at Daryl but he redeemed himself and gave them the perfect gift, basically handing Negan over on a silver platter. And the whole 'don't shoot the messenger' thing applied even if Daryl had been a willing accomplice for a time. He  
knew very well how persuasive Fiona could be, especially when she smiled with those big blue eyes.

But she played them all for fools, especially himself. Each time he groveled and begged for her back... She wanted nothing to do with him because she was being satisfied by that prick.

His face flamed at the thought.

Then images of the two of them naked and entwined bombarded his brain, making him even angrier. Him bringing her to climax over and over making her scream his name, her sucking his dick and riding him passionately...

He let out a painful yell as he slashed another bush. He was crying now. He could feel the hot tears streaming down his sweat-slicked face.

How could she stomach being with a cold-blooded killer like that?

Was it just sex or was it more?

Daryl seemed to believe it was a lot more, but Rick found that a possible emotional connection between them was even harder to swallow than just a purely physical one.

What had he done wrong? Why had she run to Negan's arms when she had a good man in himself who loved her and would do anything for her right here at home? Especially after everything they had been through together?

He didn't have any answers.

Just an unending stream of questions, many of which he would probably never get answers to.

He did know one thing for sure, though.

He was going to kill the bastard.

He knew how badly Jesus wanted to be the one to do it to avenge Gregory's death. But he needed his own revenge- even if it was just for his bruised ego and broken heart.

He wished he could do it with his bare hands.

He wanted to see the life go out of Negan's eyes... slowly and torturously.

Lifting the sword, he was about to bring it down again when someone spoke his name.

"Rick."

Michonne's velvety voice made him pause midair. He turned to look at her and when she saw the wild look in his eyes she stepped up to him and placed her hands over his on the sword. "Give her the benefit of the doubt until you at least hear her side of  
the story."

"Her side!? HER SIDE!? This is black and white! There's no shades of gray in between! She's sleeping with the enemy! And lying to everyone about it!"

"Maybe she's doing it for a reason-to infiltrate his camp, gain Intel, earn his trust... It can be anything, Rick. Fiona's a smart woman."

Rick shook his head, stubbornly refusing to believe it. "I saw the way they interacted when he brought that sick boy here! I saw the way she looked at him! How she responded to him! So did numerous other people!"

Michonne gently brought her hand to his stubbled cheek, wiping away the sweat and tears. "I'm sorry she broke your heart," she said softly. "But make sure whatever you decide to do with Jesus, you're doing it for the right reasons, like the future of  
our community and not because of a jealous ego."

He shoved her hand away angrily. "This community is always my number one priority. Don't ever question that. He's the enemy. That's what this is about. We tried to kill him once and didn't succeed. This time we will."

"And Fiona? What happens to her after it's all said and done? Are you going to exile her like you did to Carol? Do you think she's even going to want to stay here knowing how you and Daryl betrayed her?"

"No, I won't exile her. And she won't up and leave because she's got nowhere else to go. She'll get over it in time."

He handed her back her sword, wiped his face and started to walk away.

"Rick?"

He stopped and looked back at her wearily.

"I'mbehind you, Daryl and Jesus 100%. He needs to die for us to live. But I'mjust playing devils advocate here-Making sure you explore every side of this before you take action. Just in case you decide you wanted her back someday. Because  
if you go through with it and if she truly loves him, then you don't stand a chance in hell."

Rick's eyes darkened and his expression hardened into something frightening. "I don't ever want her back. Not after a betrayal like this." He got closer to Michonne, his face up in hers. "You think I'd be able to touch her again, knowing that HE touched  
her? " He shook his head in disgust. "We're finished. For good."

With that, he stormed off and Michonne watched him go.

He was a wreck.

But this was something he needed to come to terms with on his own, she realized sadly. No amount of love on her part or anyone else's for that matter would be able to help him through it.

All she could do was be there for him if and when he was ready to move on. 


	39. Chapter 39

Well! My Negan is definitely quite different from TV Negan! (Insert shell shocked face here).I almost had difficulty getting back into my story after Sunday night's episode. But no fear, I'm back at it. Coming down to the home stretch now.

And I still love my Negan so muchmore than the real thing ;-)

Ps-Welcome to all my new readers and followers. Things seem to have exploded since the season 7 premiere! Happy to have you! 

* * *

It was early afternoon by the time Fiona returned to Alexandria. After Negan left, she had climbed back into the warm bed with the plan of only snoozing for fifteenmore minutes, but ended up falling asleep for a few hours. She woke around  
nooncursing herself, took a quick shower and grabbed a bite to eat before hitting the road. Nobody from the Sanctuary had given her a hard time or stopped her from leaving. There weren't many people out and about when she had driven  
off.

When Fiona pulled up to Alexandria's gate, Abraham didn't recognize the car, so she stuck her head out the window and waved to him. He climbed down from his post to let her in.

"Didn't expect to see you driving in here today," he said. "Where'd you get them wheels?"

"Just a temporary loaner."

"You were at Hilltop? Everything okay over there? Because-"

He was about to tell her that Jesus had come by earlier a bloody and frantic mess, but she never gave him the chance, cutting him off.

"Yep. All okay." She couldn't make eye contact knowing she was lying to him. Before he could bombard her with more questions she waved and drove off.

Pulling the car into Carol's driveway, she let herself into the house and went upstairs to drop off her bag. Carol wasn't around. She was probably in the pantry house taking inventory like she did every day and coming up with a new recipe or two.

At first Fiona figured she'd walk over there to help her out, but then decided to head over to the Infirmary to check on Denise instead and possibly do her own inventory there as well. She was hoping to bring some of the Sanctuary's medical supplies  
back to Alexandria at some point, especially once she moved out.

When she got arrived,Denise was sitting with Tara. They were chatting quietly with heads together and looked so cozy that Fiona felt bad for interrupting. But they heard her come through the door and both looked over and smiled at her.

"Morning guys. Hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all. It's a beautiful day and we are lucky to be alive so just enjoying the moment." Tara gave Denise a sweet kiss on the lips to prove her point.

Fiona smiled at them and found herself missing Negan terribly even though they had only said goodbye and parted ways afew hours ago.

"What brings you by?" Denise asked. "Haven't seen you in awhile."

"I just figured I'd take some inventory, see what we are running low on. Hoping we can get more supplies from the Sanctuary at some point."

"You're going to ask the big bad Negan for half his shit!?" Tara balked dramatically at the thought.

Fiona smiled at her joke. "At some point, yes. They have way too much over there and don't need it all."

"Knowing him, we'd have to trade our entire pantry as well as our armory in return, " she scoffed.

"Maybe not. We'll see."

"You know something we don't?" Denise asked curiously, studying Fiona closely.

Fiona shook her head innocently. "Nope. Just figured it's worth a shot." She walked over to the shelf of antibiotics and began to record what was left. She could feel both girls' eyes on her back, watching her as she worked.

"I think he has a thing for you," Denise said slyly.

Fiona nearly dropped the bottle of Penicillin but caught it just in time. Without turning around she pretended to chuckle. "Okaaay."

"Don't 'okay' me. I could tell that day he was here and we were working on Bryson."

"He was a bit shaken up and worried about Bryson, that's all."

"And you haven't seen him since?" Tara prodded.

Fiona turned to face them. "How and where would I? Don't be ridiculous."

"Anyone ever tell you that you have a horrible poker face?"

Fiona rolled her eyes at Denise and returned her attention back to the medications. "All the time," she muttered.

She was saved from further inquiry by Daryl who stormed in like a bat out of hell. "Fiona here?" he asked the girls who pointed across the room in the corner. When he saw her, his expression hardened. "We need to talk," he said.

Fiona figured he was probably pissed because Negan had kept her overnight, leaving him with the burden of covering for her. She wasn't in the mood for another argument or lecture. "I'm busy."

"Fiona," he warned, his voice unamused. "I said we need to talk. NOW."

Denise and Tara exchanged curious glances and stood up. They'd seen Daryl heated before but no one ever got pissed at Fiona. She was a sweetheart and everyone loved her. Was there something going on between them romantically? The community  
was so small that unfortunately everyone knew everyone else's business.

And everyone knew she and Rick were taking a break.

"We'll give you guys some privacy," Tara said uncomfortably, and Denise followed her out.

Daryl crossed the room in a few long strides. "You have a fun night?" he sneered, once the girls had left. "All sexed out?"

Why was he so skilled at making her blush all the time? Fiona's cheeks flamed not only in shame but also anger. "Look, I'm sorry he put you in a bad spot having to cover for me. I didn't know he was planning that. He only told me later on. I wouldn't  
have gone with him if I had known."

Daryl scoffed. "Bullshit. Like you would have passed up a chance to play whore to him all night."

She let the insult slide even though it stung like hell. "I'm sorry, Daryl. I don't know what else you want me to say."

"I don't want you to say anything. I want you to listen." He stepped up to her and pointed in her face, eyes wild and disturbed. "He's a fuckin' killer. You're sleepin' with a killer."

She swiped his hand away angrily. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know where he went this morning after he was done fuckin' you?"

"Yes. He went to Hilltop because they abducted a few of his men."

"Do you know what happened there?"

"No, I don't know what fucking happened, Daryl! Because I wasn't there! So just fucking tell me already!"

"He shot Gregory!"

Fiona was momentarily stunned by the news, but then disbelief quickly set in. "No. He didn't. He WOULDN'T."

Daryl grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "WAKE THE FUCK UP, GODDAMMIT! HE DID AND HE WOULD! BECAUSE THAT'S WHO HE IS!"

Fiona's mind was racing with different scenarios as to what could have possibly happened that morning. "How do you know!? What proof do you have!?"

"Jesus came by a little awhile ago, full of blood, and completely frantic!"

"That's your proof!? He could have just finished slaughtering a farm animal!"

Daryl rolled his eyes at her impatiently. "He told us they had captured Negan's men because they were out of line when they came to pick up supplies. They tried to kill a pig which Negan had claimed the last time he was there. But the pig wasn't  
ready for slaughter and Gregory tied them up. I guess Negan didn't like that very much and wanted that pig. So a fight broke out and he killed Gregory."

"He wouldn't kill someone over a pig!"

Daryl hesitated for the briefest of moments. Hadn't he said the same thing to Jesus only hours before? But as quickly as the doubt set it in, it disappeared again. "You think you know him 'cuz you're fuckin' him? You think he's honest with you?  
You think he shows you the real man he is or just what he thinks you want to see so you'll keep on spreadin' your legs for him? I tell ya what. You don't know shit about him. And you're gonna get hurt in the end."

"I DO know him! And I know he didn't kill Gregory! Unless it was done in self-defense and Hilltop ambushed him!"

Daryl pulled his hair in frustration. "Fuckin' naïve fool! Go on, keep defending him!"

"I will! You show me proof he killed Gregory in cold blood and THEN we'll have a different conversation! But until then, go to hell!" She started to walk away, tears blurring her vision, but he grabbed her arm.

"When are you seein' him again? Because I'm out. For good this time. So find yourself a new ride and a new sucker."

Fiona tugged her arm out of his grasp. "I'm seeing him Friday. And don't worry- I've got it covered. I don't need or want your help anymore."

She stormed out, leaving Daryl alone.

In his pent-up anger and frustration, he kicked over a stretcher then sank to the floor against the wall, burying his head between his knees. He had come looking for Fiona this afternoon for one purpose-to gain intel on when she was next meeting  
Negan.

And he got it.

Friday was the day.

Whatever pangs of guilt were trying to surface, he squelched them back down.

This wasn't personal, he kept telling himself.

This was business.

And the business was survival.

Only thing that sucked about it was that he was losing Fiona in the process.

He just wished he didn't care so damn much. 


	40. Chapter 40

Negan stared out over the large crowd that assembled in the mess hall to hear him speak.

These were his people, his community, one he spent a long time building, developing and protecting. Alot of them were rough, rugged men who served him well in times of intimidation and attack and he didn't know how they would react to his new plans for  
peace. The rest were just common folk, hard workers, who he had taken in because they had nowhere else to go.

If it came down to a vote, which he didn't plan on it doing, he knew he would be sorely outnumbered. He just had to keep reminding himself he was the boss, he called the shots and anyone who didn't like it would be forced to leave.

He waited for the last stragglers to arrive then took a deep breath and stood up on one of the front tables to address them.

"So we have a bit of business to discuss today. When a few men and I were at Hilltop earlier in the week, there was an accident and Gregory got shot. He didn't make it, and now Hilltop is probably going to blame us."

"So what?" one of the tough guys named Cruz laughed aloud. "We're the black sheep and always have been. We never cared before!"

"Before he died, Gregory said he wasn't keeping our agreement anymore," Negan explained patiently. "They don't have enough supplies to share and Alexandria has offered them protection and training now. Bottom line is they don't need us. Which means we  
are screwed."

Cruz shrugged. "Simple. Let's just overrun them and take over their shit."

"I don't work that way."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Hilltop is cutting us off and if Alexandria does the same we won't survive the winter. That's why I thought a lot about this and I'm going to sit down with Alexandria and try to come up with a compromise. They take us on some runs, teach us a few things  
and we help them in return with whatever they want us to."

Rocco slammed his hand down on the table and stood up. "No! I'm not surrendering to them!"

"It's not surrender. It's survival."

"They killed Nate, and Andrew, and Jackson and Paul and Phil and Mike and Quinn and Axel and the list can go on and on. And what about our women? Diana, Sharon, Maria? All these people who died at THEIR hands! And now you want to be FRIENDS with them!?  
What the fuck!?"

"I never said friends and I'm not fucking asking you to have coffee with them! Fuck, I'm not asking you anything, actually, I'm fucking TELLING you this is what we are going to do! Anyone who doesn't agree or cooperate will be escorted out of the Sanctuary  
and not allowed to return."

"This is all about that little bitch from Alexandria," Rocco sneered accusingly. "I mentioned weeks ago how she was brainwashing you, clouding up your judgement, making you think with your dick and not with your head. And I heard she was here the other  
night. You have your fun? Was it worth it? You were so deep in her pussy you didn't even realize we didn't come home from Hilltop. They kept us tied up all night like animals while you were fucking her brains out." He shook his head angrily.

Negan just stood there, listening to Rocco's tirade with a smug smile on his face. "You done?"

For a split second Rocco feared he had maybe gone too far. So he dialed it down a notch. "I think you're delusional about trying to form an alliance with them."

"And I think you're an asshole, so we're even."

People chuckled at Negan's retort and he returned to addressing the crowd. "I'm looking at the big picture here, people. We can't survive on our own without help. I should have trained you better on how to scavenge and go on supply runs but I was more  
focused on training you for battle instead. That's my mistake and I take full responsibility for it. Which is why I want to set things right. I'm not talking about making extreme changes like growing a garden or raising fucking farm animals but this  
is a small step towards improving our way of life, if they will even agree to it."

"What are you offering them in return?" a young man named Louis asked aloud.

"Not quite sure yet. I'm going to talk to them and feel them out. But I'm open to any suggestions from anyone here.."

"Rick's gonna tell you to go to fuck yourself," Rocco said. "Especially when he learns you've been fucking his bitch."

Negan shrugged. "If he does, he does, but at least I tried."

Carla stood up and voiced her opinion. "I agree with Negan. It's time to start making changes around here." She turned to Rocco and addressed him directly. "And that bitch from Alexandria has a name. It's Fiona and she worked her ass off doing everything  
she could to save Bryson even though he, WE, were the enemy. So show her some damn respect."

"I don't need to show her anything," Rocco sneered. "And I certainly don't need to take orders from YOU."

Stella stood up bravely and joined Carla. "I lost the love of my life. Maybe if we had made alliances instead of enemies he would still be alive and fighting today. But you guys voted to kick Fiona out and ban her from returning so Bryson went a week  
without proper medical care. Am I holding grudges towards most of you? No. And Fiona should be the last person anyone is pointing fingers at. She was so brave and so wonderful to both Bryson and myself."

"Real wonderful," Lisa muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. "Little slut that she is."

"And there's the Green eyed monster who lives in my sister," Stella quipped, sticking her tongue out at Lisa who flicked her the middle finger in return.

Negan cleared his throat, hoping to deflect a sister cat fight. "Getting back to the subject at hand...I plan to talk to Rick at our pickup next week and need to know who's on board if he agrees to a compromise."

Two thirds of the crowd raised their hands in assent. Rocco and his cronies didn't budge.

Negan looked over at them. "I assume you men have a backup plan then? New accommodations for the night, perhaps?" He motioned to Dwight, Trevor and Simon. "You can start escorting them out."

When Rocco saw Dwight approaching him with a gun, he didn't want to call Negan's bluff because he knew the man didn't fuck around. He looked to his friends who all had the same nervous expression on their face. If they were to leave, where would they  
go and how would they survive?

Making the smarter decision, he swallowed his pride and sat back down. "Do what you need to do," he said humbly. "We're behind you."

Not really surprised by Rocco's response, Negan tried to make his smile more sincere than smug. "Glad to hear it." He returned his attention to the crowd as a whole. "That's all I wanted to say for now. I'll call another meeting next week after my talk  
with Alexandria."

People murmured their assent and got up to leave. Negan hopped down from the table and took a swig of his water bottle. Carla had come to join him. "Well that went better than expected," he said jokingly.

She didn't respond at first. She just stared at him with the warmest look in her eyes and a small smile on her face. "I'm proud of you."

He shrugged off her compliments like he always did, but still blushed beneath his stubble. "Stop with that nonsense, would ya? I haven't accomplished anything yet. So there's nothing to be proud of."

"You've changed."

"Have I?"

"Fiona's good for you."

"I know she is."

"You love her." It was a statement, not a question.

Negan swallowed thickly and his voice cracked as he spoke. "I do."

"You tell her yet?"

He shook his head. "Not in so many words."

"You need to tell her, Negan. In these hard times, every day is a treasure and you can't take them for granted. You don't know how much time you'll have. So quit procrastinating and say it already."

"I asked her to move in with me."

"That could mean nothing more than you wanting easy access to her body on a daily basis. That doesn't mean you love her. You need to SAY it."

He smiled in spite of himself. "You're in a motherly mood today, aren't you? Scolding Rocco and now me?"

"I only scold those who need scolding. So what did she say?"

"She said yes."

Carla's smile broadened. "Looking forward to having her around more often. Nikki will be thrilled. Stella too."

"Her people aren't going to like it. It won't be an easy transition for her."

"We will make it as comfortable as we can. She'll be happy here, Negan. Mostly because YOU make her happy. She was glowing the other day I stopped by to see you. And hopefully if her people can make amends with you, she will still be able to be part of  
their lives, too."

"That's a big fucking 'if'."

"I'm a woman of faith."

Negan pulled her in for a hug. "Glad that makes one of us."

She pulled back and frowned at him sternly. "You are, too. Or you would have never fallen for Fiona."

"I'm not a woman, last time I checked at least. And I don't think Fiona would like me nearly as much if I was." He kissed her cheek then flashed her a playful grin as he hurried towards the door.

"You tell her, you hear me?" Carla called after him. "You tell her as soon as you see her!"

He lifted his arm in an acknowledging wave without turning around before walking out. 


	41. Chapter 41

Sorry the posts have been so far apart guys. Life has gotten in the way. And I'm heading up to RICC on Saturday to meet the man himselfso my state of mind is a little ahhhhhhhh right now!

Thanks as always for sticking with this story! 

* * *

Fiona was curled on the couch reading a book after dinner and waiting for Carol to put the finishing touches on Carl's birthday cake so they could head over for his party. Fiona wasn't too keen on going, and not just because of her blowup with  
Daryl. All week, she had gotten the feeling that things were amiss. Michonne seemed a bit distant and Rick seemed to go out of his way to avoid her whenever he had the chance. So much for their whole "friendship" agreement. He certainly wasn't  
acting like he wanted to be her friend.

Maybe she was just imagining it. Or maybe she was trying to subconsciously convince herself that no one would miss her once she left.

"I'm ready if you are," Carol said cheerily, standing by the front door with the cake in a plastic Tupperware carrier.

"Sure. Let's go." Fiona grabbed her jacket and followed Carol out.

The night was cold. She tucked her hands into her pockets and pulled the jacket more tightly around her. Autumn was definitely upon them and winter would be coming fast. She was eager to see how Rick and her friends would respond to Negan's  
terms for peace. They would have to be relieved, not having to worry about so many extra mouths to feed.

Or so she hoped.

Because they could also respond with skepticism, thinking Negan was trying to dupe them somehow.

And then of course their reaction when they found out she was leaving. She needed to make them understand she wasn't deserting them and would be back whenever they needed her. That is, if they even wanted her to come back once they found out the truth.  
She may not even be welcome here anymore.

The thought saddened her more than she wanted to admit. She loved Negan but she loved all her friends, too. They were her family. It wasn't fair if she had to be forced to choose between them.

"You okay over there?"

Carol's voice broke into Fiona's heavy thoughts. She needed to stop worrying about all the possible outcomes or she was going to drive herself crazy. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You seem a thousand miles away."

"Just reminiscing about the past. I used to love this weather and time of year.."

"Don't do that, sweetie. It only makes things harder."

"I know. Sometimes I can't help it, though."

"What I asked a second ago was if things were okay with you and Daryl."

Fiona looked over at her in the darkness. "Yes. Why?"

"Rumour has it he came storming into the infirmary the other day pissed at you again."

"Tara and Denise are a bunch of gossips."

"Not much else to do around here," Carol joked. "I know you say nothing is going on between you two. Romantically, at least. But something is going on. People are picking up on the tension."

Fiona sighed quietly. In a way she was glad her secret would finally be out next week because she was getting so tired of hiding it and telling lies to cover it up. "We just don't see eye to eye on some things." At least that much was the truth.

"Nothing wrong with that. And my offer to talk still stands, you know. Whenever you're ready."

"I appreciate that. But there's nothing to talk about right now." Maybe next week she would be singing a different tune, though. But would Carol still be as understanding and forgiving?

When they got to Rick's house it looked warm and inviting from the outside. Windows were lit and shadows of people milled around, talking and laughing. The front door was unlocked and she opened it for Carol, following her inside. She veered off to  
the kitchen to drop off the cake and Fiona made her way into the living room. She poured herself a glass of wine and settled in the corner, alone.

She looked around the room, at her friends-family-and a bittersweet feeling came over her.

She watched Glenn and Maggie, cuddled together, Glenn's hand resting lovingly on the swell of her belly. Would she even be welcome back here to meet the baby when the time came?

She remembered back to the conversation she had with Maggie that day in the fields. When Maggie asked her if she and Glenn were doing the right thing by bringing a baby into the world. Her opinion on the matter still hadn't changed-if she were in  
Maggie's shoes, she wouldn't have kept the pregnancy-but there was no doubt this baby was going to be loved beyond measure.

So maybe that made it all worth it in the end...

Her gaze shifted to Sasha and Abraham, also sitting together like a cozy couple, Sasha on his lap while he told one of his many entertaining, animated stories that everyone loved so much. He had the crowd laughing at his one liners and every now and  
then he would start bickering affectionately with Eugene. Fiona loved their bromance. She was so glad it was able to survive despite Eugene's DC cure deception.

She watched Carl and Enid playing with Judith on the rug. They were showing her how to stack blocks and she'd cackle with pure joy clapping her hands every time the tower crashed down. They would occasionally exchange shy, sweet glances and smiles.  
Would she be able to watch their relationship blossom as they got older? Also, would she be around to see Judith grow up?

Her mind's eye envisioned herself sitting there with Rick, his arm draped around her shoulder while they enjoyed the company of their family and friends. That would have been her fate had she not chosen otherwise. And she would have been perfectly  
happy and content. She WAS happy and content with him, until that night everything changed. So maybe it hadn't been her who had chosen an alternate reality. Fate threw her into Negan's life and the rest had been out of her control.

She loved him. She loved everyone in this room as well. But she wasn't delusional to think there would ever come a day when he would be welcome here amidst them. She was forced to choose and had chosen him. Whether it was the right or wrong decision,  
only the future would tell.

Tomorrow she was meeting him again and she felt that familiar flutter of anticipation coursing through her body at the thought. It would be their last time together before their secret came out. He was coming back to Alexandria next week for  
a presumed pickup but instead planned talk to Rick and her friends about a possible alliance.

All week she had stewed over Daryl's words and accusations. She had played every possible scenario in her head as to what could have happened up at Hilltop the day Gregory died. Except for one. There was no way Negan shot him dead unprovoked. She  
believed that with every fiber of her being. Whether that made her a naive fool like Daryl called her or a loyal woman with the utmost faith in her man, she didn't know. But like she had told herself at some point in the past, she was going to  
believe the best in him until he proved her otherwise.

And she knew he was innocent of the crime Jesus was accusing him of.

She finished her wine and got up to pour another glass. Then she made her way into the kitchen, bumping into Daryl in the narrow hallway. He mumbled an awkward hello and kept on walking. She thought about going after him but realized sadly there was  
nothing left to say that hadn't already been said.

"Hey guys," she greeted Rick, Michonne, Tara and Denise who were all gathered around the island counter. Carol was with them and they were all praising her cake.

Rick made fleeting eye contact and shot her what seemed like a forced smile.

Michonne was getting ready to light the candles. She smiled more genuinely at Fiona and said, "Can you tell everyone to come in here so we can sing?"

"Sure."

Fiona left and returned with the rest of the group in tow. Carl took his place of honor at the head of the counter in front of the cake and Sasha shut the lights. Everyone began singing and Fiona looked over at Rick in the darkness. He was watching  
her, and the look on his face when illuminated by the shadows from the candles was unsettling. It had to be just a trick of the light, she told herself. Because why would he be looking at her with pure... disgust?

He quickly looked away when he realized she had seen him and Fiona wanted to believe she had only imagined it. Because now he had his arm around Carl and the other was holding  
Judith and he was smiling down at his kids like he was the richest man in the world.

This is what you're giving up.

The thought came to her unexpectedly and she smiled at them wistfully but didn't feel one ounce of regret. She had made her decision and was sticking by it.

She was going to build a life with Negan.

And they were going to be happy, for however long their ever after was in this apocalypse.

The thought excited her, making those butterflies in her stomach take flight again.

Carl blew out the candles and everyone cheered. Fiona used that opportunity before the lights went back on to quietly slip away and out the door.

Given the way Rick had been looking at her, she had a feeling she wouldn't be missed.

Besides, the longer she stayed, the harder it was going to be when they eventually told her she wasn't welcome in Alexandria or their lives anymore. 

* * *

The next morning Fiona showered, shaved, did her hair and put on some makeup in preparation for meeting Negan. Carol had left early to drive Maggie and Glenn up to Hilltop for a prenatal checkup and sonogram, so there was no one around to question  
her when she headed out.

Except for Gabriel who had morning gate duty. "Where are you off to this fine morning?"

He was right. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining and it was unseasonably warm for mid October.

"Taking a ride to Hilltop," she lied. "Promised them I'd return the car."

"Make sure they give you a ride back home. Actually, Carol can! She went up there not too long ago with Glen and Maggie."

Fiona smiled at his concern while inwardly cringing. She should have chosen a better cover story. "Of course. Good idea."

She waved as she drove through the gate, unaware of Rick and Daryl sitting in Rick's car which was parked off to the side. They were waiting for Jesus to arrive so they could head out after her.

Rick looked over at Daryl whose eyes were trained on the car as Fiona drove away. "So you're sure you know how to find this treehouse?"

Daryl nodded silently. The first time he had left Fiona alone, he had trailed them, marking the way so he could find it again if necessary. His overprotective nature hadn't liked the idea of not knowing where she was at all times she was with Negan.

"I still can't believe you let her go off with him alone, but I'm not gonna beat that dead horse anymore. I said I'm over it and I am."

"I would have never put her in danger."

"He himself is danger."

"He wouldn't hurt her."

"Like you know that for a fact."

Daryl did know it as fact. He never told Rick about that day they encountered the walkers and Fiona's close call. He still recalled how shaken up Negan had been afterwards and it disturbed him knowing that such a cold blooded killer could still feel  
such emotion like that.

Rick scowled at him when he didn't respond. "Hey- if you're not on board with this tell me now because I don't need you screwing things up today, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," Daryl muttered, slouching in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "And I wouldn't be here if I wasn't on board. I just wanna get it over with so we can start doing some damage control."

"Damage control?" Rick laughed mirthlessly. "She's not going to forgive us. Me, I'm fine with that because I can never forgive her. But are you prepared for the possibility of losing her?"

Daryl hated hearing something he already knew spoken aloud. Whoever said the truth hurt wasn't kidding. "I already have," he said quietly. To change the subject he said, "You don't think we should bring some backup? Maybe Abraham, Glen or Michonne?"

"Jesus said he was coming with a few extra guys. And you said they are alone, right? He doesn't bring his scumbag entourage when he meets her?"

"Not that I have seen."

"So we will be fine. He's outnumbered either way. And his guard will be down especially after a sex hangover. He's got no chance."

The thought brought a sick smile of satisfaction to Rick's face.

They were so close now.

And his thirst for blood and revenge was so strong he could taste it. 


	42. Chapter 42

So JDM was incredible but that's no surprise. Comic con closed down at 7 and he stayed till 9 signing autographs. We were one of the last in line. He took a birthday selfie with me and was so gracious and sweet.

Now life can return to normal,I can return my attention to my writing and finallyfinish this damn story! Sorry it's been so long between chapters, guys. Thanks as always for sticking with it! Xoxoxo 

* * *

When Fiona arrived at the gas station, Negan was already there waiting. She pulled up alongside his truck in the opposite direction, parked the car and grabbed her bag.

"There's my independent woman," he drawled, eyeing her keenly as she stepped out of the car. It was so nice to see her without the redneck tagging along attached to her hip. He should have given her her own car weeks ago.

Fiona leaned against the door and admired him for a moment. He looked so handsome sitting there behind the wheel, his elbow propped out the rolled down window and his dimples gracing his cheeks in a smile that reached all the way up to his eyes making  
them sparkle.

Her heart fluttered with excitement.

The emotions weren't getting old. After almost two months, they still felt brand new.

It was that feeling right there that each time she felt it, she knew she was making the right decision by moving into the Sanctuary and starting a life with him. When they were together, all her troubles disappeared and she didn't have a care in the  
world. Maybe he was her drug. But he was a healthydrug because she was happy. Genuinely happy, a way she hadn't felt since before she lost her children. She had died with them that tragic day, yet Negan had somehow brought her back to life,  
just as she had apparently done to him.

No one could refute that if only for that reason alone, they were meant for each other.

"Say something gorgeous."

Fiona walked around to the passenger side and climbed in, then leaned over the console to kiss him. It was quick and to the point and he tried to deepen it but she pulled away before she lost herself like she always did in his kisses.

"What happened at Hilltop?"

He flashed a disgruntled frown. "So business before pleasure, huh?"

"When it's this important, yes."

She had a determined look on her face which he knew not to challenge. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, cursing softly under his breath. For her to know, it meant Alexandria already knew. And if he had to guess, what they knew was less  
than half the truth.

He reopened his eyes and stared at her. "Whatever you heard isn't the truth."

"I realize that. Which is why I'm asking you for the truth now."

"Jesus was going to kill me. Had a gun pointed at my head." He paused when she gasped loudly and saw her eyes widen in fear. "Relax. I'm here, aren't I?" He smiled warmly and reached out to rub her thigh.

The thought of him being held at gunpoint shook Fiona badly. She didn't want to imagine it but disturbing images kept invading her mind, one worse than the next.

Negan continued talking so they could move off the subject. "While Gregory was talking him down, Dwight tried to knock his arm away and the gun went off. Right into Gregory's chest. He was bleeding out pretty bad. I'm not surprised to hear he didn't  
make it."

Fiona nodded in resignation, relieved he hadn't done what Daryl had accused him of.

"That's it? No follow up questions?"

She shook her head and reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. "I believe you."

When Negan saw her unwavering acceptance of his story, something inside him continued to soften. That hard shell around his heart had cracked awhile ago but each day it seemed to melt away a little at a time until eventually it wouldn't exist anymore.

"What did Rick say to Jesus?"

"I have no idea. I guess Jesus came by after Gregory died. I got the aftermath from Daryl. He seemed pretty worked up so I can assume it wasn't good whatever Jesus told them."

"I don't want this to start a war."

"Neither do I."

"Maybe I need to come talk to Rick sooner."

Fiona studied the crease between his eyebrows and the storm brewing behind his eyes. "You're worried."

He smiled faintly, shaking his head. "Just playing out all the possible scenarios. Military technique. Always best to be prepared." He leaned over and cupped the back of her neck, drawing her into him. "But that's for tomorrow. Today I just want to  
enjoy you."

He kissed her again, probing deeply and this time she let him, twirling her tongue around his. He tasted like toothpaste and smelled fresh out of the shower clean.

Almost instantly her desire peaked and she needed to be closer to him but the darn console was in the way. She groaned in frustration when she awkwardly tried to maneuver around it. "Let's get out of here," she murmured against his mouth, catching  
his lower lip between her teeth. "I need you inside of me."

"Don't say things like that, gorgeous," he breathed, grasping her hips and lifting her over onto his lap. "Or I'll fuck you right here."

"Is that really such a bad thing?" Her palms slipped inside his open jacket to caress his chest as her lips found his again.

He smiled, totally turned on by her aggressiveness. "It is when I was planning to romance you."

"Plenty of time for romance when I move in." She shifted herself on his lap and began grinding against him.

Negan pulled away and ran his thumb over her swollen lips. His eyes shone as he studied her. She was so beautiful when her face was flushed with desire. "Look at my dirty girl-all hot and bothered." He licked his lips appreciatively and slid his  
hands beneath her sweater, dying to touch her soft, bare skin.

Fiona blushed. "I told you, this once a week thing kills me."

"It won't be for much longer. I just hope you don't get sick of me then."

She returned her lips to his earlobe. "Not possible."

He smiled as he started the ignition. "I'm gonna drive. You just keep on doing what you're doing. It'll be one hell of a foreplay." He pulled away, driving with one hand on the wheel. The other hand which had been resting on her lower back deftly  
slid around to her belly. He was going to delve south but changed his mind and creeped north instead. He met the underwire of her bra followed by lace. He teased her nipple with his thumb through the fabric then reached into the cup to palm her  
bare breast.

Fiona inhaled sharply at the feel of his hand on her skin. She wanted him to touch more of her, all of her, without her restrictive layers of clothes in between. He squeezed her breast then toyed with her nipple again, sending jolts of desire shooting  
straight down to her core. She moaned softly, pressing her hips more firmly into his as her lips traced down his stubbled jaw to his neck. The more she sucked and nibbled, the more hungry his caresses became. His hand moved across to her other  
breast, pinching the sensitive nipple just enough to turn pleasure into a tolerant pain. "I love your tits, you know that?" he murmured. "I wanna fuck them with my mouth so badly."

His words, spoken in that deep, husky voice brimming with desire, made her ache desperately for him. She pulled back and looked at him in surprise, her lips curving into a sexy smirk. "Now who's the dirty boy?" she teased.

"I guess it's a dirty kind of day. I chucked the romance idea right out the window. But you're to blame."

"I'm so wet for you," she breathed in his ear. "Just do me now."

He chuckled deeply, just as turned on as she was, but he forced himself to control it. "You're not gonna break me, gorgeous. I'm not fucking you in my truck today. We'll save that for another time. But keep talking dirty. God, I love it." He  
pushed upwards to demonstrate the strength of his arousal, teasing her with what she wanted but couldn't have at the moment.

Fiona bit down on her lip and buried her face in his neck, reveling in the feel of him. "You're a tease."

"If I'm not mistaken, you're the one doing all the teasing here. I'm just tryin' to drive." He removed his hand from her bra and slid it around to her back, holding her in place while he made a sharp turn. The road became rough as he drove over  
gravel, causing Fiona to lift her head and look out the window.

"You're not taking me home?"

Negan smiled at her choice of words. "Home, huh? I Iike the sound of that on your lips."

"You know what else you'd like on my lips?"

He sucked in a breath at the thought, remembering the way that sweet mouth felt around his dick that day in the shower. "Mmmmm... Why don't you tell me ..."

"You'd like your thick, throbbing cock twitching between between my lips. I'd take it deep to the back of my throat then lick every last drop off of him after you come in my mouth."

Negan tore his eyes from the road for a brief second to stare her down. When she saw the blazing look of carnal desire emanating from them, she smiled sultrily. "Eyes on the road, big guy." She brushed her lips across his for one last kiss then  
returned to her seat.

A grunt was the only response he could muster.

Slipping her hand under her jacket, she adjusted her bra and sweater and looked out the window. They definitely weren't going to the Sanctuary because they were deep in the woods on unmarked road. "Are we going to the treehouse?" When he didn't answer  
she looked over at him. "Hello?"

He shot her a sideways glance. "Forgive me if I can't form coherent words at the moment."

"You told me to talk dirty."

"Didn't realize you were so fucking skilled at it."

Fiona smiled smugly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Negan looked at her begrudgingly, knowing that practice made perfect and hating the thought of her talking that way to anyone else before him. "Yes, I'm taking you to the treehouse. Figured it would be the last time before it got too cold."

"I like it up there."

"Why?"

"It's romantic...bare minimum, no distractions..."

"Thought you didn't want romance."

She looked over at him and smiled. "I was speaking in general. It's a very romantic place. When we're there...we have nothing but each other's full time and attention."

Negan reached over and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "You always have my full time and attention. Don't ever forget it. You're my only distraction, gorgeous. And a most welcome one at that."

Carla's reminder to him echoed in his thoughts but no matter how badly he wanted to, he still couldn't muster enough courage to take that final leap. He couldn't believe what a coward he was being, but he knew he would be able to say it when he was  
sure the time felt right.

He promised himself he would try again later while they made love.

Fiona squeezed his hand and smiled over at him. "Just get us there, and I'll be the best damn distraction you ever had."

"Yes ma'am."

She was rewarded with another full-blown dimpled grin, warming her from head to toe. 


	43. Chapter 43

When they got to the treehouse, the area was quiet and seemed to still be free of walkers.

"Race ya to the top," Fiona challenged as she grabbed her bag and bolted from the car. Negan cut the engine and followed hot on her heels. She reached the ladder first, taking the steps two at a time. When she got to the balcony landing, she lifted her  
arms in victory. "I win."

Negan grabbed her and pulled her into him, crushing his mouth to hers. "No I win, gorgeous. Because I've got you right where I want you." His kiss was deep and hungry and it reignited the fire inside her which she had temporarily cooled during the remainder  
of the car ride.

Without tearing his lips away, he guided her backwards into the house and kicked the door closed behind them. Then he got right to work, tearing at her clothes and removing each article one by one until his hands touched glorious bare skin. Fiona tried  
to do the same to him but her coordination and focus was off. His lips and hands were everywhere all at once, driving her to distraction. She somehow managed to get his jacket off, or maybe he did that himself, and then she slipped her hands  
under his shirt to tug it up over his head. He was making faster progress, though, because she was already down to her bra and panties and yet he still had his dark jeans on blocking the one part of him she was aching for.

She started fumbling with his belt but aborted her mission when he lifted her in his arms and carried her over to the sea of blankets in the corner. He lay her down gently and then there was no more gentle in him as his kisses turned hard and hungry again.  
His fingers unsnapped her bra from behind and then those hands were on her breasts again, squeezing and kneading. He kissed his way down, letting his mouth replace his left hand. His tongue and teeth teased and lapped, nipped and suckled, switching  
back and forth between breasts. He continued tirelessly and Fiona reached again for his belt and got as far as unbuckling it and popping the button on his jeans when she felt an unmistakeable tension mounting in her lower belly. She gasped breathlessly,  
"I think I'm about to come."

"Then come for me gorgeous," he murmured. "You know how much I love it when you do." He tugged her nipple with his teeth and watched as her body surrendered, trembling beneath him.

"How did you do that?" Fiona croaked when she managed to find her voice.

Negan was kissing her neck and paused to look up at her and smile cockily. "You seem surprised."

"Well... I just never... I mean... It's supposed to be pretty near impossible."

"Nothing's impossible with me, gorgeous," he murmured, returning his lips to her mouth and twining his tongue with hers. "I told you I'm good. Actually I'm not good. I'm fucking great."

"There's the humility i love so much."

At first Fiona worried she had gone too far letting the L word slip out in context like that, but he didn't even seem to notice. He was too busy finishing unzipping his jeans from where she had left off earlier and he pulled them off, taking his boxers  
with them. Then he covered her body with his, kissing her ravenously while his hand slipped between her thighs. She was dripping wet and his cock teased her slit, poking and prodding trying to gain entry.

When he pulled it away she whimpered in protest.

"Get on all fours," he growled, lifting himself off her and leaning back on his knees.

Fiona did as he asked and he wasted no time plunging into her from behind. She cried out in relief because he felt so good. He was so thick that she could feel her walls stretching to accommodate him from that position. Each thrust was harder than the  
last and sent fabulous waves of pleasure coursing through her. He grabbed her hips, his fingertips digging into her skin and pulled and pushed her, back and forth, as he thrusted in and out.

Her moans intermingled with his grunts and he kept up that frantic pace until he cursed, groaning loudly as he stiffened and emptied himself into her. Fiona cried out his name as her walls clenched around him at the same time and another fabulous  
orgasm rocked her system. Negan continued thrusting to help ride her through it and he didn't quit until she stopped trembling.

Her body was pleasantly exhausted. She lowered herself to her elbows and placed her head down on the bed of blankets, closing her eyes to catch her breath. She felt his lips touch down on her lower back, kissing her tenderly.

"You okay?" he murmured.

"Perfect," she answered breathlessly. She turned her head to smile at him. "Is that your idea of romance?" she teased. "Freaky- deaky doggy style?"

Negan chuckled and slid out of her, still semi-hard. He took that as a good sign and hoped it meant that he would be able to last one more round later. "You said you didn't want romance so ...I changed my approach." He lay on his back and snaked  
an arm around her waist, pulling her down next to him. Then he threw a blanket over them and she snuggled close. "I'm versatile."

"That you are."

He smiled. He always loved receiving compliments from her. "It really does get better every time."

"When I move in, we'll have to get our creative juices flowing to keep things fresh."

"Gorgeous, there are over 200 positions in the Kamasutra. And we'll have nothing but time so I intend to try every single one. You on board with that?"

Fiona's heart fluttered at the thought. And not just because of the sexual implications behind his words. Because of how wonderful it was going to feel going to sleep with him each night and waking up beside him every morning.

She shifted her body so she could look at him. "Absolutely."

He grinned and kissed her. "Starting with the infamous 69," he murmured against her lips before probing deep with his tongue. He twirled it slowly around hers, tasting as he explored and reminding her of all the wonderful things it could do between her  
legs in that specific position. She grew wet just imagining it.

Negan pulled away and recognized the glassy-eyed look on her face. He knew it all too well. Sliding his hand down the curve of her hip, he slipped it between her legs, proving his suspicions were correct. "My dirty girl has some appetite," he teased,  
fingering her slowly up and down.

She writhed beside him, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Can you blame me?"

"You're fucking insatiable and I love being the big bad influence." He removed his hand and leaned over to kiss her again. "So I told Carla you'll be moving in."

"Did you seriously just stop?" she asked exasperated.

He flashed her dimples and teeth. "I'll finish what I started. Don't you worry your pretty little head."

Fiona pretended to grunt sourly then engaged him in the conversation he started. "What did she say?"

"What do you think she said?"

She attempted her best imitation of Carla. "You did good, handsome."

Negan threw his head back and laughed, a hearty belly laugh which made Fiona stop, take notice, and enjoy. She had never heard him laugh like that before, and to her ears, it was one of the most wonderfulsounds in the world.

"I believe she said something along those lines, yes. She's very excited. Said Nikki and Stella will be too,once they find out."

"What about the rest of your community?"

"They will accept it. They have no choice. They already know I'm going to talk to Rick and try to come up with a compromise and all voted for that. So I think it will be okay."

"What day are you coming to us next week?"

"Probably Monday. As soon as possible." Negan lost himself in his thoughts briefly then asked, "How do you think Rick is going to react?"

Fiona didn't answer right away.

She had pondered the possibilities endlessly over and over in her mind each night for the past week as she lay awake unable to sleep. She wanted to give Rick the benefit of the doubt that he would do the right thing and accept Negan's terms for peace,  
but she had a bad feeling when he found out WHY Negan was being so charitable he was going to have a coronary.

Negan looked over at her, brushing his thumb across her cheek. Her eyes were troubled and sad. "You think he's going to exile you, don't you?"

"I'd probably do the same if the roles were reversed," she said quietly. "I'm sure he won't be able to look at me anymore when he finds out."

"You have other friends and family there, though."

Her heart ached at the reminder. "They will side with Rick. They are very loyal to him."

"You don't have to do this. It's a huge sacrifice I'm asking you to make and it's not fair. We can figure out another way."

"There is no other way because once they hear the truth about us, it won't matter where I'm living. They will still feel betrayed either way." She stared into his brown eyes and felt a sense of calm wash over her. "And I WANT to do this. I want to move  
in with you. No one is twisting my arm here."

His lips curved into a tender smile. "You sure about that?"

"Want me to show you just how sure?"

She began to slide her body over his but his hands stilled her. "Fuck yes. But you gotta give me a little while."

"Oh I forgot. Gramps needs a break." She rested her chest against his and smiled down at him.

"Trust me. It's not one of our better qualities. All men wish we could go as often as you women."

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Fiona surrendered with a sigh, laying her head on his shoulder. They fell into a companionable silence, just enjoying the nearness of each other. Soon, her mind began to drift like it always did when idle for too long. She would  
usuallythink of the past,conjuring up happy memories, but today she found herself imagining the future.

"So say they find a cure for this thing," she said quietly. "And the apocalypse ends. Where would you consider settling down?"

"I thought you didn't like this game."

"I don't. I just want to know more about you."

"I'd settle down wherever you'd be, gorgeous. That's a no brainer."

She smiled and her heart warmed at his sweet response. "That's not a real answer."

"Ok then...Probably...New York. I'm done with the south and southern living. It's not my thing."

"Where were you before?"

"Maryland."

"South but not super south."

"No. But my personality is just not cut out for it. I need speed. I need edge. I need attitude."

Fiona laughed. "You just described yourself in a nutshell. New York would definitely suit you."

"Where were you from?"

"New York, believe it or not."

"Really?" He gazed at her in admiration. "I knew there was a reason I was drawn to you. You were a firecracker the first night I met you. Explains the New York 'tude."

"Met me? Or kidnapped me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "We back to that again?"

"Just making sure you're using the proper word." She loved teasing him.

"Fuck it, then. Kidnapping you was the best fucking decision I ever made." Negan kissed her thoroughly to prove his point, remembering back to that night in the woods. As he had stared her down and she stared back at him, stubbornly refusing to show fear,  
he had imagined her petite body writing beneath him in apassion embrace. That was what had convinced him to take her instead of killing one of her group.

Best decision he ever made. Hands down.

Her kisses matched his in intensity and miraculously he felt himself harden against her, meaning he was ready to go again.

She felt it too and he could feel her lips curve into a knowing smile against his mouth. "I'm impressed. And I take back the Gramps comment."

"Honestly, the thought of kidnapping you fucking turns me on. Real kidnapping, though. Like if I had tied you up that night." His desire grew as he imagined her spread eagle on his bed, her wrists and ankles restrained to the bed posts. "You would have  
liked it. I would have had you screaming for more by the time I was done."

He rolled over onto her, devouring her neck then her breasts again. Fiona arched her hips against him, turned on by the image he created in her mind.

"Am I right?" he murmured, his lips trailing down her stomach.

A soft moan was all she could manage.

"I can't hear you."

Once his tongue slipped between her thighs, she lost all ability to form coherent thought or speech. "Mmmmm."

"I'll take that as a yes." He pulled back before she got too close and then entered her from above, moving slowly but deeply. She took all of him in, sighing in satisfaction.

"Answer me one question, gorgeous," he said quietly.

Fiona opened her eyes to look at him. "You're quite the Chatty Cathy tonight." He smiled but the serious, pensive look on his face remained. "Ok, I'm listening. Go ahead."

"When I told you what happened to Gregory...why didn't you question me?"

For a split second she considered a casual response but then had a rapid change of heart. This man, whom she trusted and felt so many incredible emotions towards, was staring at her so tenderly while filling her up so completely that she couldn't hold  
it back any longer.

"Because I love you."

She didn't expect him to say it in return so she wasn't surprised nor hurt when he didn't. He just stared at her for what felt like an eternity and she watched as all his facial features softened into the most tender look of adoration she had ever  
seen from him. He was so beautiful and she traced her fingers along his cheek and jaw, trying to commit his expression to memory.

To say he was slightly dumbfounded was an understatement. Her words rendered him speechless. There had to be a higher power at work for this sweet, kind, smart and flawless woman to love someone as flawed as he. A part of him knew he didn't deserve her  
love and he couldn't fathom why he was being given a second chance after all of his past mistakes.

It's called redemption, the voice in his head told him. And you've earned it.

He felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes so he leaned down and kissed her instead.

Fiona felt everything he couldn't say in that kiss and she kissed him back lovingly, silently reassuring him she understood. Soon he began moving again inside of her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him as close as possible.

Their eyes locked and as they moved together, they melted into one.

One body, one heart and one soul. 


	44. Chapter 44

As Fiona got dressed, Negan watched her from across the room while putting on his own clothes. He admired every curve on her body which his hands now knew by heart as well as every move that body made. He knew he would never grow tired of worshipping  
her or her body, and he found himself actually excited for the future, no matter how dismal it seemed living in the midst of an apocalypse.

Fiona must have felt his gaze on her because she looked up and smiled at him while she zipped her jeans. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Her body was blissfully sore and she was both physically and emotionally satisfied. She had told him  
she loved him. She had finally gotten that weight off her chest and she felt a sweet sense of relief now that it was out there in the open. She knew he loved her too and that he would say it when he was ready. Words meant nothing without actions to  
back them up anyway. And his actions towards her spoke volumes.

"Penny?" he asked her.

"I should be asking you that. You're the one who's staring."

"Admiring," he corrected, and advanced towards her after lacing up his boots. "And wishing those clothes of yours were coming back off." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close one last time, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss.

"What good would it do? Your little friend has gone into hibernation mode by now, I'm sure."

"You love busting my chops, don't you? Just be aware that you're only one I allow it from."

"I'm honored."

"You should be." He tightened his hold on her and deepened the kiss, twining his tongue with hers. "Fuck," he sighed. "I don't want to say goodbye to you tonight, gorgeous. Come back home with me. Will anyone even realize you're not there? Its not like  
the redneck will be waiting for you at the gas station since you came on your own."

Fiona considered it for a brief moment. "Don't tempt me. I could but I can't. Carol will freak out if I don't come home."

Negan cursed again but knew she was right. He needed to be patient. It was only a few days longer that he had to be without her.

He would survive.

He kissed her top lip then her bottom lip before finding the strength to pull away. He bent down to retrieve her sweater on the floor and handed it to her, enjoying one last view before she threw it on over her bra.

She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "So this is it until Spring?" she asked, looking around the room wistfully.

"Afraid so."

"Think it will still be here?"

"I'll make sure it is." He kissed the top of her head as he headed past her to the door. Holding it open, he waited for her to walk through then shut it firmly behind him. From the balcony he did a quick surveillance of the forest around them but all  
was quiet. Motioning to the ladder he said, "After you, m'lady."

Fiona descended first and glanced back up at him above her. "You do have a nice ass, ya know."

Negan chuckled at the random compliment. "Not as nice as yours."

"I didn't say it was."

"Good, because it's not."

When they both reached the ground, he backed her up against the passenger side of the truck, pressing his body to hers. "I don't want to let you go." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.

Fiona slid her arms around his waist. "You almost have me convinced to come home with you."

"Fuck it. Let's do it. Life is too fucking short." He kissed her again then attacked her neck, his stubble tickling her skin.

She threw her head back, her laughter echoing through the trees and reaching the armed men who were scattered camouflaged behind trees less than 50 yards away. Some of them looked on in lust at the way he was groping and kissing her, while others watched  
in disgust and heartache.

"Only if I get dinner out of it," she bargained playfully.

"Mind blowing sex isn't enough? You want food, too?"

"Yes."

He kissed her again, slipping his hands Inside her jacket to skim her breasts. "You know I'll give you anything you want, gorgeous."

"Ok then. I'm in."

He flashed her a kid in a candy store grin, dimples blazing. After one last peck on the lips he said, "Let's get outta here." He opened the door and shut it behind her after she climbed in.

As he walked around the front of the truck to the driver's side, a shot rang out and he felt a shooting pain in his right chest near his shoulder. A second shot followed, that one hitting close to the original.

As soon as Fiona heard the first gunshot and saw Negan stagger backwards, she knew he had been hit. Without hesitation, she bolted out of the truck and around to him when another shot rang out.

"Get the fuck down!" Negan barked at her. He tried to pull her behind him to shield her but his strength had disappeared and his arm felt as heavy as lead.

Fiona felt a sting on her upper arm but ignored it as she grasped him by the shoulders to steady him. He was staring down at the wounds on his chest which were slowly oozing a dark stain across his T shirt.

"Hold your fire!" someone yelled with a voice eerily similar to Rick's.

She turned to the sound and sure enough, saw Rick, Daryl, Jesus and two men she didn't recognizing advancing on them with guns and crossbow trained and at the ready. She didn't even have time to process what the hell was going on because she felt Negan  
sway behind her so she grabbed his waist as he fell to his knees.

"Fuck," he groaned.

She pulled off his jacket, lay him gently down on his back and lifted his shirt, pressing her palms to the wounds. Both had hit his upper right chest near his shoulder blade and thankfully missed his heart.

He lifted his head, trying to see his injury. "How bad is it?"

"Not too bad," she lied when honestly she couldn't tell without the proper tools and equipment. She guided him back down and placed his rolled up jacket under his head.

"Hurts like hell."

"I know. I'm gonna get you back to the Sanctuary. Carla and I can fix this."

Jesus chuckled. "You're not taking him anywhere, blondie. It all ends here and now."

Fiona looked up and saw the five men now looming over her where she kneeled by Negan's supine body. Panic quickly set in when she began to understand they were not here for a friendly visit but for a deadly ambush instead.

"What's going on!?" sheasked hysterically. "Why did you SHOOThim?!"

"Are you so dense that you really need me to answer that question?" Jesus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and contempt. "Well, you ARE blonde after all so maybe that explains it." He and his friends laughed at his joke and then he turned  
on her, expression hard and angry. "Why do you think!? Because we've been trying to kill him for months! But we could never get close to the elusive bastard. Until we found out about your little trysts with him. Thanks for being the perfect  
bait. Or should I say the perfect whore." He leered at her with a sleazy smile.

"Get out of the way, Fiona." Rick's voice was flat and sent chills down her spine. She tore her eyes from Jesus to see Rick had his gun pointed at Negan's chest.

"NO!" She leaned over him, taking care not to crush his wound, using her body as his shield. "I'm not letting you do this!"

Rick motioned to Daryl impatiently. "Move her."

Fiona looked at Daryl, her eyes wide and panicked. Then understanding quickly set in. "You... You did this... You betrayed me..."

Her blue eyes filled with tears and regarded him with such hurt that he had to look away.

"Daryl!" Rick barked again.

Daryl took a few steps back, shaking his head. "Na man, I can't." He walked over and leaned against the nearest tree trunk, crossing his arms over his chest and nervously biting the inside of his cheek. It was too late for regrets. He couldn't stop things  
now even if he wanted to. But he didn't need to play anymore of an active role than he already had.

"Goddammit!" Rick cursed then looked to Jesus who nodded in understanding.

Jesus tossed his gun down and hoisted Fiona up under her arms, carrying her off to the side. She kicked and screamed in protest but he was much stronger than she and managed to capture her in a tight hold with one arm snaked around her chest, pinning  
her arms to her sides and the other around her hips, forcing her to her knees so she couldn't kick out at him or try to make a run for it.

Fiona could barely breathe he was holding her so tightly. "RICK!" she screamed hoarsely. "DON'T YOU DO THIS! DON'T YOU DARE!"

Rick ignored her. He was still standing over Negan with his gun and now had an unobstructed shot as Negan lay there unarmed, wounded and completely helpless. The look in Rick's eyes was so dark and so murderous that it chilled her to the bone.

Rick got down on one knee to address him. "What's the matter tough guy?" he snarled. "Usually so talkative but now you've got nothing to say? Nothing at all?" Rick spat at him, a wad of phlegm landing on his chin. "You've put so many people through  
hell. And not just physically. Mentally and emotionally, too. So everyone would agree you deserve this." Rick poked his gun into the wounds, prodding him. "C'mon. Say something, asshole. Plead your case. Beg for your life. I want you to know how it  
feels when the tables are turned."

Negan clenched his jaw against the pain, refusing to show weakness. He remained silent, staring at Rick stoically which only seemed to infuriate himeven more.

Rick threw a hard punch across his face. "That's payback for breaking my nose that night In the forest." When Negan still didn't respond, Rick got closer and lowered his voice. "As if all this wasn't enough, you had to go and fuck her, too!? I loved her,  
dammit! We HADsomething-something real, something meaningful...we were happy...were a family." His voice hitched as he started to get choked up. "A fucking FAMILY-and you stole it away...So no, I won't have any guilt once today is over.  
I'll be able to do this and walk away witha clear fucking conscience."

Negan was finding it difficult to take deepbreaths and his chest began to burn. He could feel blood dripping down his nose but he didn't move to wipe it away. He still refused to answer Rick. He had nothing to say because a lot of what Rick said  
was the truth anyway, and he couldn't refute it.

"Still nothing?" Rick sneered. "Well guess what? I have no use for Fiona now. She's not welcome in Alexandria anymore and Hilltop won't accept her either, so with you gone, what should I do with her, hmmm? Drop her on the side of the road somewhere? Let  
her fend for herself? You think she'll survive on her own? Maybe another group of outcasts like your group will find her and have some fun with her, or maybe walkers will have a nice feast off her little body. I just want you to die knowing she won't  
be taken care of, not by me or any of my friends. What do you think of that?"

His words finally hit a nerve. Negan couldn't bear the thought of Fiona being alone and helpless in this crazy world. "Don't take it out on her," he pleaded.

"I can and I will. She lied to me for months. Played me like a fool. She's dead to me now."

Negan looked at him in disgust. "You say you loved her? That's fucking bullshit then. You never truly loved her."

"Oh and you did?" Rick goaded.

"I do." Negan answered, refusing to speak in past tense. "And she loves me. Tough pill to swallow, ain't it, cowboy?" He took Rick by surprise by flashing his trademark grin then bringing his head up hard and fast and bashing it against his face.

Rick staggered back, dropped his gun and threw his hand over his nose. His vision blurred and the world started spinning around him. He swayed on his knees and grasped for the gun but his eyes were playing tricks on him and he saw more than one lying  
on the grass.

Negan reached it first and winced as he lifted his right arm pointing it Rick.

One of Jesus' friends wasted no time in firing their gun.

"NOOOOOO!" Fiona screamed as she saw Negan collapse backwards again, the gun falling out of his hand.

Jesus released her, confident the shot was on the mark and close enough to kill him.

Fiona ran to him, stumbling as tears blurred her vision.

She kept waiting for the moment she would wake up and be saved from this horrible nightmare.

This couldn't be happening.

It couldn't.

They had just had the most perfectly wonderful day.

They were going to move in together.

The future had seemed so promising and bright.

She fell to her knees beside him. He now had a much larger wound over his heart and was bleeding profusely. She lifted his head onto her lap and his eyes fluttered open. He managed a faint smile before closing them again. He was drifting in and out of  
consciousness and she felt the pulse in his neck growing weak and thready.

He wouldn't survive this. Not even if he had a hospital and cardiac surgeon on hand.

The thought ripped her heart to shreds.

Tears continued streaming down her face as she called his name.

He slowly reopened his eyes. "I..."

"Shhhh..." She caressed his cheek comfortingly. "Don't talk."

He looked up at her, those dark eyes which used to be so intense and full of emotion were now growing glassy and trying so hard to focus. "I...love...you... gorgeous..." He coughed violently and Fiona put pressure on his chest wound, her tears  
falling much more rapidly now after hearing his words. "I'm sorry..." He coughed up more blood and she wiped it off his lips. "I'm sorry I didn't... tell...you... sooner."

He fell unconscious again and Fiona called his name, gently stroking his face. He opened them but seemed to be staring straight through her. "I know you do, Negan... I've known it all along... And I love you so much... I always will."

She wanted to believe he heard and understood her because he smiled faintly one last time and squeezed her hand before falling unresponsive. She lowered her lips to his and kissed him softly. "Go to Sarah, now," she whispered, her tears raining down on  
his face as she imagined his beautiful reunion with his daughter. "I'll be okay here... I'll be okay..."

She kept her lips pressed to his until she felt the last of his breaths escape his mouth.

Her hand, still holding pressure to his wound, was covered in blood. Beneath it, his heart which used to beat so strong in his chest had fallen eerily silent.

He was gone.

Her silent tears transformed into anguished sobs as she cradled his lifeless body on her lap.

All the memories they had made together flashed before her eyes in a bittersweet slideshow.

Now nothing but those memories were all that remained of him.

Out of the five men who were watching the scene unfold from the sidelines, only one of them were moved by the tragedy. The rest were congratulating each other on a job well done. Daryl had never seen Fiona so broken before. His heart ached for her and  
the mess he foolishly helped create.

As he watched her crying over her lover's dead body he wanted desperately to go to her, hold her and comfort her but he knew he would never be able to take such liberties ever again. From the murderous way she had looked at him earlier along with her  
angry accusations of betrayal, he was as dead to her as Negan now.

She was so lost in her grief that she didn't see his left leg twitch, followed by his right.

"Fiona!" Daryl yelled out to her. "He's turning!"

He started to run towards her in case she needed help or didn't have the heart to do it.

Fiona lifted her head and through her tear- filled swollen eyes saw his eyeballs start to move behind his closed lids. She pulled her knife from its holster at her hip and lifted it with a trembling hand. Placing it at his temple she paused, squeezing  
her eyes shut, and willed herself one last time to wake up from this nightmare so she could be lying back in his arms in the treehouse where she belonged.

When she felt his arms start to move, she knew she had to act.

Moaning his name, she drove it slowly but steadily through his skull and his body immediately went still again.

Letting the knife slip from her hand to the grass, she lay down beside him, resting her head on his bloody chest. She wrapped her arm around his waist and held him close, the way she had so many times in the past.

Then she closed her eyes and let the pain wash over her. 

* * *

Authors note- For some reason, I had this scene visualized so clearly in my head when I wasn't even halfway through writing the story, soI knew things unfortunatelyhad to play out like this. Also, as soon as I heard this song (I'm a  
big Rob Thomas fan by the way), I thought it was so fitting for this chapter. I can hear it playing in the background as Fiona is cradling Negan's body while he takes his last breaths. Give it a listen if you have a chance. The piano is so hauntingly  
beautiful...

watch?v=Qx8YHpNkrjk

And no, the story isn't over. Not yet.

Happy Thanksgiving and thanks as always for reading. Xoxo 


	45. Addendum

The stupid link doesn't work. Sorry.

Song is called Pieces by Rob Thomas. YouTube it if you're curious.


	46. Chapter 45

Daryl wasn't sure how much time had passed. Minutes? Or mere seconds? Regardless, it felt like an eternity as he stood aside and watched helplessly while Fiona cradled her lover's dead body.

It was too late for regrets he kept reminding himself.

Too bad he had a shitload of them.

Rick had walked away with the rest of the guys and he could hear them discussing a game plan regarding when and how to let the Saviors know their leader was dead. It made Daryl sick to his stomach that they were so immune to the heartbreaking scene  
taking place before them.

He wanted to cry for Fiona. He wanted to hold her while she held Negan.

She had nobody now.

She had lost Rick, she had lost Negan, and she made it perfectly clear how she felt about him when she realized he had been a part of the ambush.

And that thought saddened him more than anything.

He gave her a few more minutes to mourn in peace before walking over to her. He kneeled down and gently placed a hand on her arm, calling her name softly. "It's getting dark. We have to go."

Her eyes remained closed and she didn't move.

"Fiona?"

"Leave me be." Her voice came out weak and hollow.

She elbowed him away and he saw his hand which had been resting on her arm was bloody.

Had she been shot, too?

"Your arm," he said worriedly. "I think you're bleeding." He tried to gently pull off her jacket sleeve to get a better look, but she bolted up and pushed back at him, wincing at the pain radiating up her arm.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked.

"You're hurt!"

"I don't fucking care!"

"Well I fuckin do! We gotta get you back to Denise!"

"I'm not going anywhere! I need..." Her voice hitched as she looked back down at Negan's lifeless, bloodied body. She choked back a sob, wrapping her trembling hands around her shoulders. "I need to bury him..."

Daryl closed his eyes cursing inwardly. It was a humble request. How could he deny her that small favor after everything she had just been through?

"Wait here," he said then ran back over to the guys.

Jesus and his men were saying goodbye to Rick and heading off.

"Anyone have a shovel?" he called out to them.

"I might in my truck." Jesus motioned for Daryl to follow him back through the trees.

Rick grabbed Daryl's arm to stop him. "We have to go. You're not digging a grave for that bastard."

"It's the least we can fuckin' do."

"Hey! You said you were on board! I asked you in the car before we left! You said YES! Then you go and and almost fuck things up! So don't play this guilt trip game with me!"

"I'm not askin' you to help."

"And I'm telling you we have to leave."

As they were arguing, Daryl saw Fiona collapse to the grass but he had a feeling this time it wasn't voluntary. He pushed past Rick and raced back over to her. Sure enough, she was unconscious. He felt for her pulse which was weak but present and then  
checked her breathing. He took care taking off her jacket and sure enough, saw an angry gunshot wound in her right bicep. He yelled to Rick for help while he looked around frantically for something to be used as a tourniquet. Ripping off the  
end of Negan's t-shirt, he tied it tightly around her arm to staunch the bleeding then picked up her limp body.

"She's been shot," he told Rick as he hurried past him heading for their car. "Let's go!"

Rick followed and opened the door for him since his hands were full. He gently laid Fiona down across the backseat, leaning over to pull the makeshift tourniquet a bit tighter.

"She okay?" Jesus asked when he returned with the shovel, glancing worriedly into the car.

"She took one of your fuckin' bullets in the arm." Daryl angrily grabbed the shovel and pushed past the two men, walking back towards the treehouse.

"I said not now, Daryl!" Rick called after him.

Daryl kept on walking. "Get her home! She needs help!" He motioned to Negan's truck. "I'll drive back in that."

Rick hesitated, not liking the idea of leaving Daryl out there alone when it would soon be dark. He was about to call out to him again but then didn't. He had already started digging with a determined look on his face, and Rick knew once he set his mind  
to something, there was no changing it.

The fact he had his trusty crossbow with him eased his mind a bit but not much.

Rick said goodbye to Jesus then got into the car and tossed a glance over his shoulder at Fiona lying across the backseat. Her eyes were closed and her face was pale and streaked with dried blood and tears.

He searched deep down for some twinge of emotion or pity but he was empty inside.

What he had told Negan about deserting her had been a lie. Just something extra to torment him with in his last moments. He couldn't kick her out of the community, he wasn't that cruel, but he could easily pretend she didn't exist and hope once she recovered  
from her injury she would choose to leave of her own volition.

The bandage Daryl tied around her arm was starting to grow saturated with blood so he knew he needed to get moving. He returned his gaze to the road, started the ignition and peeled off back to Alexandria. 

* * *

Fiona groggily opened her eyes and immediately felt an excruciating burning pain in her right arm. She lifted her head and looked at the bandage wrapped around her bicep which was lightly stained with blood. It took her a few moments to realize where  
she was but then suddenly everything came flooding back and she bolted up in bed and screamed.

"NO! Take me back!"

She started thrashing and tearing at the IV line in her other arm. Denise wasn't aware she had regained consciousness and sprintedacross the room, but Daryl, who had been keeping vigil at her bedside since he returned, gently pushed her back down,  
holding her arms in place.

"Shhh, it's okay. You were shot and then you fainted. You lost a helluva lot of blood. You need to relax."

Fiona continued to struggle against him. "Don't tell me to fucking relax! You had no right to bring me here! I wasn't ready to leave!" She was crying now, tears streaming down her face as the last thing she remembered was laying across Negan's lifeless  
body which meant it had all been very real and not just a nightmare like she had sodesperately hoped.

"I buried him, Fee. I buried him like you asked. I swear it. I'll take you back and show you when you're strong enough."

"LET ME GO!" She tried to kick at him but Denise held her legs down.

"Fiona look at me!" she ordered in a stern voice but Fiona continued to struggle against them. For such a little thing she was way stronger than she appeared. Denise and Daryl kept trying to calm her but there was no reaching her. She was too deliriously  
worked up from both her physical pain as well as her grief and it was only snowballing into something uncontrollable.

"I have to sedate her," Denise told Daryl. "Hold her down while I grab some meds."

"NO! DON'T YOU DARE PUT ME BACK TO SLEEP! HE NEEDS ME! I HAVE TO GO BACK! TAKE ME BACK THERE!" Fiona took a swing at Daryl which actually connected to his cheek. He cursed but then regained a good grip on her wrists.

Denise returned with a syringe which she connected to the IV line then slowly pushed in the dose of sedative.

Immediately they could feel her resistance weakening as her head lolled back on the pillow.  
Her eyes rolled up as she fought to keep them focused but a haze was slowly clouding her vision.

"Negan..." she moaned desperately, her frantic shouts now reduced to whispers. "I loved him...I loved him so much... and you killed him..."

Her eyes closed and her breathing grew calm and steady as she finally found some peace in a deep sleep. Peace which, unfortunately, she would never be able to find while awake probably ever again. 


	47. Chapter 46

Fiona woke up to the most wonderful feeling of butterfly kisses tickling her shoulder and collarbone. She opened her eyes to the sight of the top of Negan's tousled bedhead. Sunlight was streaming in through the window and her limbs were cozily tangled  
with his beneath the soft sheets.

She took his face in her hands, lifting his head. Those brown eyes regarded her lovingly as his mouth curved into a lazy smile. "Morning, gorgeous," he murmured. "Did I wake you?"

Fiona nodded but couldn't seem to speak. Her mouth moved but no sound came out. She knew somehow she was only dreaming but everything felt so real from the warmth of his body to the scruff on his cheeks to the deep, husky sound of his voice.

"Can't say I'm sorry because I'm not." With a mischievous grin he rolled over and covered her body with his. Then he began kissing her slowly, deeply, the strength of his morning wood pressing against her thigh.

"I love waking up to you, to this, every day," he whispered in her ear before he entered her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing in pleasure, and moved fluidly with him. She stared at him, drinking in every detail of his face hungrily.

It wasn't until he looked down at her that he noticed the tears in her eyes. "Why are you crying?"

Again, she tried to speak but no words came out. She could feel the tears streaming down her face. She just couldn't figure out if they were happy or sad ones.

"Don't cry, gorgeous", he said, his lips brushing her cheeks, kissing them away. "This is only the beginning for us. And we are gonna write one hell of a story together, I promise you that."

His thrusts became deeper and just as she felt that wonderful sensation building deep within her, the beautiful dream shattered like shards of glass from a broken mirror. 

* * *

Daryl had dozed off for a bit, leaning over his chair with his head buried in his arms on the side of Fiona's stretcher. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but he had been bone tired especially after the physical exertion of digging the grave and  
just needed a quick catnap. Denise had tried to talk him into going home to bed but he refused to leave Fiona's side. He knew she would kick him out once she came to her senses, but until then he would take full advantage of her drugged state for  
as long as possible.

When he felt her body shift slightly, he was jolted awake, ready to restrain her again if she became combative. But she remained asleep. Her eyeballs were vibrating back and forth behind closed lids and her lips curved up into a small smile. She was obviously  
dreaming. He had forgotten how beautiful she was when she smiled.

Denise walked over, changed the dressing on Fiona's arm, hung a new IV bag then sat down beside him with a sigh.

"How's she lookin'?" Daryl asked her.

"She lost a decent amount of blood but I'm tanking her back up with fluids. I was able to get the bullet out... The wound looks good so far. No sign of infection."

She got lucky, he realized with an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had been too much of a close call, though. She had reflexively run out to help Negan, selflessly putting herself in harms' way and the stray bullet meant for him could  
have caught her in a much more dangerous place.

"Why did they kill him?" Denise asked quietly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "I mean, I kinda KNOW why, but couldn't things have tried to be resolved peacefully?"

Daryl felt another sharp pang of guilt stab his chest. "I don't know anymore. I've stopped trying to rationalize it."

"She really loved him, didn't she?"

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat at the thought. He remembered vividly back to the day they had argued in Carol's driveway after Fiona had returned with the hickey. He accused her of just seeking physical gratification and she had passionately  
yelled at him to not tell her how or what to feel.

"You think he loved her back?"

He nodded again. "I think he would have done anything for her."

Just because she was that sort of woman. The one who sucked you in with her sweet innocence, kindness, intelligence and of course beauty. Hell, he knew he himself would do anything for her.

Like spending an hour digging a grave alone in a dark forest.

"Even leave Alexandria alone?"

"I think that was the goal she was working towards."

Denise let out a low whistle. "Damn. Talk about bad timing. If only Rick and Jesus had held out a little longer... Or spoke to her about it before they took action..." Her voice trailed off, not wanting to get caught up in what ifs. "Speaking of  
Rick, he hasn't been in to check on her."

"Na, and he won't. She's as good as dead to him now."

Denise scowled angrily. "That's bullshit. He needs to man up and stop letting his ego call the shots. We are a family here. We don't give up on each other."

Daryl chuckled at Denise's naivety. "Go ahead and tell him that."

"I will next time I see him. He should be ashamed of himself. When you have a history together like he and Fiona did, you cant pretend like none of it ever existed."

"It's because of that history why he can't be around her anymore. It's gotta hurt too much. She lied to him, cheated on him depending on how you look at it, and worst of all with someone who was the enemy. Ya can't fault him for feeling the way he does."

"You also can't help who you fall in love with," she argued quietly, her thoughts straying to Tara and their blooming relationship.

Silence descended upon them again as they both stared at Fiona's sleeping form, lost in their own thoughts.

After awhile, Fiona began to moan softly and they watched as her smile faded and slow tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

The sight of her crying in her sleep was too much for Daryl to bear. He sprang out of his chair and grabbed his jacket. "I better not be here when she wakes up. Maybe then she won't get as agitated as last time. Besides, I'm the last person she's gonna  
wanna see right now."

Denise looked at him in confusion. "Why?"

Daryl paused by the door but kept his gaze trained on Fiona. He couldn't meet Denise's eyes and didn't want to see her reaction when she heard the truth. "Because I'm the one who turned them over to Rick and Jesus." He could hear his voice hitch at the  
verbal admission. "I thought I was doing Alexandria a favor... Our supplies have been running low and we wouldn't be able to keep up with giving half to those assholes...and with Maggie being pregnant and winter coming..." He shook his head,  
disgusted at the way he sounded trying to defend his actions. "She trusted me to keep her secret but I fuckin' betrayed her..."

"Oh Daryl..."

He stormed out before Denise could say anything further.

She watched him leave with a heavy heart. Hearing his heartbreaking confession, she couldn't imagine how severe his guilt and regret must be. And the worst part was knowing that Fiona would never forgive him.

Because what he did-what he helped take part in-was unforgiveable.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the door open and realize Tara had come to check on her until she sat down beside her and reached for her hand. Lacing her fingers through hers, she gave a gentle squeeze. "How is she?"

"I had to sedate her. Woke up frantic. It was pretty scary."

"I'm proud of you. You've come a long way."

Denise blushed at the compliment. "I'm just doing my best. Hate that she's the patient and not able to help me out," she added with a half-hearted chuckle.

"So they really did have a thing, huh?" Tara asked, referring to Fiona and Negan. Word had already spread through their community like wildfire. Most people were appalled when they heard the news.

"I think it was a lot more than just a thing."

"She must be devastated then."

"It probably hasn't even fully sunk in yet. She hasn't been awake long enough for it to."

"She's crying in her sleep," Tara pointed out. "Something must have sunk in."

"He didn't seem like such a bad guy," Denise admitted after a few moments. "The whole 24 hours he was here awhile back with his sick friend."

"We weren't in that forest lineup, though. To hear the others talk, they saw a very different and terrifying side of him."

"Well Fiona had obviously overlooked that side of him because she had been there as well."

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it? What she saw in him? Or what he did to earn her love and trust?"

"We all have a story of our past. We've all suffered. What we've lived through and survived made us who we are now. But we are all human beneath it all."

Tara squeezed her hand again and looked at her lovingly. "You've got the kindest heart. I love how you look for the good in everyone."

Denise leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too. I assume you're camping out here tonight so please get some sleep and I'll come by with breakfast in the morning."

"Thanks. You're the best."

They shared one last kiss before Tara got up and walked out.

Denise walked over and shut all the lights except the one by the door so if Fiona woke overnight she wouldn't find herself in complete darkness. Then she settled down on the empty stretcher next to her and closed her eyes, exhausted, but sleep wouldn't  
come.

Her mind was racing, already trying to figure out ways to convince Fiona to stay in Alexandria.

Between her obvious bad blood issues with Rick and after hearing Daryl's confession just now, Denise realized sadly it would be an impossible feat. 

* * *

Fiona awoke in the semi-darkness. It took a moment for her to get her bearings and realize she was in Alexandrias infirmary. She had a vague recollection of her earlier outburst upon waking and didn't have the energy to repeat it. She had IVs hooked  
up to each arm and her right bicep was throbbing.

But the rest of her was completely numb.

She wanted to cry but her swollen eyes were dry.

She stared at the ceiling, her bittersweet dream so vivid in her mind.

Her lips still tingled from the memory of Negan's kiss and she could still smell traces of his clean sandalwood scent.

She almost wanted to beg for Denise to put her back to sleep just so she could be with him  
in her dreams. She was beginning to understand why people turned to drugs. Because the pain-free state of oblivion they induced was heaven.

Negan was dead.

The thought kept replaying over in her head on repeat.

Rick and Daryl had killed him.

Two of her best friends, the men she had loved and trusted, had hurt her in the cruelest of ways.

She didn't care if neither of them pulled the actual trigger. They had been accomplices to the whole ambush. And if Negan hadn't knocked the gun out of Rick's hand, he probably would have been the one to do it after all.

Fiona remembered back to the night of Carl's birthday party when she had been so unnerved by the way Rick was looking at her. It all made sense now. He had known about her and Negan. Daryl must have spilled the beans after the whole Gregory incident.  
It had to have been him because she was pretty sure no one else knew her secret.

She could only imagine what Rick's reaction had been when he found out. Knowing him and his intense personality, he must have gone completely ballistic.

Maybe she should have been the one to tell him. Maybe if he had heard it from her own mouth, it would have seemed less like a betrayal. Maybe she should have been honest and told him the truth then followed it up with Negan's plans to talk to him about  
a peace agreement. Maybe if she had gone that route, this all could have been avoided and he would still be alive.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she stopped the intrusive thoughts. She couldn't fall into the what if trap.

Because it didn't matter now.

There was no bringing him back.

Her tears began to fall again as she felt an aching in her heart unlike any she had felt before.

Losing her children had been out of her control. The outbreak hit, people were unprepared, and no one was immune. But this-this unnecessary act of hate and violence- could have been avoided. It didn't need to end this way.

What Rick and Daryl had done was unforgivable.

A hot surge of anger rose up and replaced the ache in her chest.

She never wanted to see them again.

Right then and there, she vowed that once her arm was healed, she would be packing her things and moving on. There had to be other nearby friendly communities who would take her in. With her skills, no one would dare reject her.

This wasn't her home anymore.

And these people certainly weren't her family.

She was done with them, done with Alexandria.

And nothing anyone could say or do would ever change her mind. 


	48. Chapter 47

Fiona woke to the smell of breakfast and whereas she should have been famished, her stomach turned and she retched over the side of the stretcher. Nothing came up since she hadn't eaten in over 24 hours. Denise was at her side in an instant, holding a  
metal bin at the ready. Fiona retched again, this time bringing up a bit of slimy green bile.

"Morning," Denise greeted her, tucking her hair away from her face in case she vomited again.

Fiona sat back and winced. "Thank you and sorry. The smell of those eggs turned my stomach."

"Sorry. Tara just brought me some breakfast. I was going to ask if you wanted some but I'll assume not."

Fiona shook her head. "I feel horribly nauseous."

"It's the combo of pain meds and antibiotics. Which is why you need to get something in your stomach but definitely not eggs. I'll go grab you some toast or crackers."

"I don't think I can eat right now. Maybe in a bit."

"Okay. Just tell me when." She went to the sink to rinse the bin then left it at the foot of the stretcher just in case. She sat down beside Fiona and gave her a sympathetic smile. "How's your pain level?"

"About a seven."

"You're due for another dose of Morphine in an hour. Think you can wait?"

Fiona nodded and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't any easier the morning after. Her heart was still aching horribly and she had so many regrets. By now she figured everyone in the community had heard the news. Not only that the big bad wolf was dead but  
that she had been secretly sleeping with him for the better of two months.

She felt no embarrassment, no shame.

She was still too numb to feel anything other than grief and anger.

"I'm sorry," Denise said softly. "I know it doesn't mean anything but I truly am sorry." She reached over to squeeze Fiona's hand.

Fiona nodded and closed her eyes, fighting the tears which threatened to fall again. "You should have let me bled out, pretended to have done all you could for me... I don't want to be here...I don't want to go on without him..."

She began to cry and Denise cried with her. "You know I couldn't do that, Fiona. You're like a sister to me. And then there's the Hippocratic oath and all...do no harm..."

"That's for doctors," Fiona snapped, pulling her hand away. "You're not a fucking doctor."

Denise wasn't offended by her harsh words. She knew Fiona would be experiencing the seven stages of grief and the first one, anger, could last a long time.

"As cliched as this is gonna sound, he would want you to take care of yourself and survive."

Fiona let out a mirthless chuckle. "Survive for what? For who? I've got nothing left..."

"You have the memories."

"Fuck the memories."

"Don't say that."

"What good are they? I can't touch them, hold them, make them smile at me. And soon they will fade to nothing. I have no picture of him... Nothing to evenremember him by..."

She continued crying and Denise was at a loss for words.

But then she started talking about something she never spoke about to anyone before.

"My twin brother died a few years before the apocalypse hit...He was in a bad car accident...Got hit by a drunk driver... Afterwards, I was so grief stricken that I had to be hospitalized a few times for repeated suicide attempts... Finally, one  
therapist was able to reach me when none of the others could...She told me to imagine how my brother would feel and think as he watched me from heaven trying to overdose on a bottle of pills... I was so ashamed because I didn't want him to think  
I was a quitter and a failure...the bonds twins share are indescribable and that day I realized part of him still lived on in me... And I needed to cherish that and honor him and his memory by treating my body like precious cargo...So I did."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Fiona said quietly. "But Negan wasn't my twin and there's nothing in this new world worth living for anyway. We are all fucked no matter how we try to sugar coat it...So my situation is very different."

"You may think that now. But in time you'll feel different."

"I doubt it."

Denise stood up. She didn't want to push her. She knew it was going to take a long time. "I'm going to go hunt down some crackers for you to eat."

Fiona blanched at the thought of eating anything at that moment but mumbled a thank you then turned her head towards the wall and shut her eyes. If anyone else came in while Denise was out, she definitely didn't feel like talking, so feigning sleep was  
always a safe option. 

* * *

But nobody came.

Over the next few days, none of her so called friends or family stopped in to see how she was doing physically or emotionally.

Fiona didn't care nor was she surprised, and it only made her resolve to leave that much stronger.

But it floored Denise.

That the people she thought she knew and loved could be so cruel, heartless and unforgiving.

She had overheard Maggie and Rosita badmouthing Fiona in the pantry, as well as Abraham and Spencer calling her some colorful names on a separate occasion. Both times she had wanted to give them a piece of her mind, shame them for their cruelty, but she  
knew it would serve no purpose. It wouldn't change their minds nor their opinions.

And Fiona wouldn't be sticking around much longer anyway. She was sure of it now. And sadly understood that nothing she could say or do would change her mind.

Her wound was looking good and healing much faster than Denise had expected. Yet her vomiting and nausea would not abate even after she weaned her off the hard core pain meds. She was tolerating bland food in small amounts and was no longer requiring  
IV fluids but was still on two heavy duty antibiotics.

After four days of no fever and a clean looking wound, Denise decided to switch her to oral antibiotics and send her home.

On the walk back to Carols house, whoever Fiona passed in the street gave her a mumbled hello without eye contact and kept walking by. Carl and Enid were on their porch with Judith, and when Carl spotted Fiona, he gave her such a look of disgust  
which mirrored his father's the night of his party. Fiona thought about stopping to say something to him - he couldn't be blamed for his father's actions- but before she could, he said something to Enid then scooped up Judith and they disappeared  
inside.

Carol was baking in the kitchen when she got there. She looked up and gave Fiona a sympathetic smile from across the island counter. "Hi."

Fiona muttered a hello back and headed straight for the stairs.

"Can you come in for a sec?" Carol called out to her. "Please?"

Fiona paused on the stairs but then reluctantly returned to the kitchen.

Carol sized her up from top to bottom, but with the exception of the bandage around her right arm, and her face pale and drawn, she was no worse for the wear.

"I didn't come to see you in the infirmary because ... Well... Because I had no idea what to say...Honestly...I'm shocked, appalled, stunned, and at the same time my heart is breaking for you, sweetie... It's a really strange mix of emotions  
and I don't know how to handle them. I just wish you had confided in me earlier all those times I asked if you needed help."

"There was nothing you could have done."

"It didn't need to end this way."

"The way it ended wasn't my fault," Fiona snapped angrily.

"I didn't say it was..." She cracked an egg into a bowl and continued talking but the sight and smell had Fiona bolting for the bathroom.

She keeled over the toilet and retched violently. Then, she sank to her knees and began sobbing, laying her head on her arms as she remembered Negan standing over her, holding her hair back from her face as she repeatedly got sick the night she was raped.

That's what was going to happen now, she realized sadly.

The memories were going to overwhelm her at the most unexpected of times.

And she would never be able to escape them. Not that she wanted to because they were all she had left of him.

He had been so kind to her that night. So caring, so protective, so nurturing. And it was when she had begun to see him in a whole new light.

Fiona had left the door open but didn't realize Carol had come to check on her until she cleared her throat and asked softly, "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," Fiona croaked. "I just need to lie down. These antibiotics are killing me."

"Then you need to put something in your stomach. Or you'll never break this cycle of nausea. Come back out when you're ready and I'll make you some tea and toast." She shut the door and returned to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. After placing the  
kettle on the stove, she hurried to answer it.

Daryl was there on the porch, with his usual sullen look. "How is she? Can I see her?"

"Does she want to see you?"

"Probably not. But I just need to talk to her."

Carol stepped aside to let him in. "You knew all along didn't you? That's why you two were always arguing. At least it makes sense now."

He shrugged, shaking his head. "I stumbled upon them by accident. And was put in a bad spot ever since."

Fiona came out of the bathroom and when she saw Daryl in the living room she snapped.

"NO! Get the fuck out! I have NOTHING to say to you!"

Daryl held out his hands to keep her at bay and fought back the tears that prickled his eyes. "I know that. I just wanted to say something before you take off in the middle of the night and never come back." His voice hitched at the thought. "I'm  
sorry...I thought I was doing it for the right reasons but I was wrong... I was so wrong and I'm so sorry."

"Good for you," she spat back venomously. "Hope you can sleep better now after that little confession. Because guess what? I'll never be able to close my eyes and fucking sleep again without seeing the image of his face as he was dying in my arms!"

"What was I supposed to do!?" Daryl yelled, advancing on her and becoming just as angry. "It was either him or us! How could I not choose Alexandria!? These people here are my family- the only family I've ever known and loved! And It wasn't  
fair to ask me to keep that kind of secret!"

"I didn't ASK you to do anything!"

"You had me fucking driving you to your fuck fests and lying to everyone about it!"

She slapped him hard across the cheek. "Don't you DARE belittle what I had with him! Don't you dare!"

Carol stepped between them and placed a hand on Daryl's chest. "I think you should go," she said quietly to him.

He let her lead him back to the door but he turned once more to address Fiona. "I buried him at the foot of the tree house...A few yards from the ladder."

He didn't wait for a response, nor did he get one.

He mumbled a goodbye to Carol and walked out, defeated.

After Carol shut the door and turned back into the living room, Fiona was gone. Two seconds later, she heard the bedroom door slam shut upstairs. She wondered wryly if this was what it was like living with teenagers and their sulky mood swings, but  
then immediately felt embarrassed by the thought.

Fiona was a grown woman in mourning.

And it was probably better to leave her alone and give her the time and space she needed to come to terms with her grief.

Sighing quietly, she returned to the kitchen to finish preparing some tea and toast.

Regardless of whether Fiona wanted to talk or not, Carol was going to make damn sure she ate something.

It was the least she could do. 


	49. Chapter 48

Fiona woke early the next morning before the sun came up. She dressed, grabbed some last minute things from her bedroom then tiptoed downstairs. Carol's door was closed which meant she was still asleep.

Fiona preferred it that way. A note would be enough.

She went into the kitchen and lay her backpack on the counter island. She had packed her things last night. She had made the decision soon after Daryl had left and she felt a newfound sense of purpose afterwards.

She grabbed a handful of protein bars and two bottles of water, shoving them into her bag. Then she scribbled a few lines on the notepad Carol kept in the drawer.

By the time you read this, I'll be on the road.  
Please don't try to find me.  
I can never come back here because I can never forgive.  
Maybe that makes me a bad person but I'm past the point of caring.  
Thank you for everything and for your hospitality.

Her eyes were surprisingly dry as she signed her name.

She opened the front door and shut it softly behind her. The car Negan had loaned her was unfortunately still at the gas station where she had left it that fateful day. But she knew there was always an extra car by the gate for supply runs which would  
work just as well.

Spencer was sleeping up at his post by the gate when she arrived at the entrance to the jumped when he heard her start to pull the heavy bar back.

"Where you goin'?" he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"To the Sanctuary. I need different antibiotics for my arm."

"They'regonna let you in after what went down?"

"I wasn't the one who killed him."

"No. You just fucked him. Didn't realize you were that hard up for some fun in the sack, gorgeous. I would have been more than willing to oblige if only I had known. Hell, I still would be." He flashed her a cocky smile while his eyes scaled her body  
from head to toe. "Tainted pussy don't bother me. Or you could just suck my dick. That would work, too."

The sound of that sleazebag calling her gorgeous turned her stomach more than his coarse taunts and caused a white hot rage to bubble up inside of her. But she bit her lip to keep from retaliating.

The whole point was to leave quickly and quietly.

As she pulled the gate back, her breath caught in her throat when she saw Negan's black truck parked outside. For a moment, she expected to see him step out of it, wearing his black leather jacket and aiming that dimple bearing smile right at her.

She fought back the emotions and realized Daryl must have driven it home after he stayed to dig the grave. He had kept it parked outside the compound so she wouldn't see it and get upset at the sight of it exactly as she was doing now.

"Keys are in it," Spencer said when he saw her staring at it, frozen, like she was looking at a ghost. "Please take it. I don't want to look at it anymore."

Fiona broke out of her daze and hurried over to the truck. Once she climbed into the driver's seat, his scent was everywhere and more unbidden memories came flooding back.

Riding back to the Sanctuary that first night he took her from her friends... She had been terrified, visions of rape and all the ways he could possibly violate her racing through her mind... Yet he never touched her... She fast forwarded to the  
first time he had picked her up at the gas station and stopped short on the side of the road just to get her so turned on only to torture her by making her wait for release...Then finally, riding with him and grinding on his lap while whispering  
dirty nothings in his ear...

That had been less than a week ago.

He was so alive, so happy, so vibrant and full of life.

Now he was gone.

Her hands trembled as she gripped the wheel and she rested her forehead against it, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. She couldn't cry right now or she wouldn't be able to drive.

Forcing the memories away, she sat up, focusing on the task at hand and started the ignition.

Then she drove off without a single glance back in the rear view mirror. 

* * *

As soon as the treehouse came into view, Fiona felt another heart wrenching stab in her chest.

She remembered back to the day he surprised her with it. She had been so awed by the beauty and intricacy of it all, and she loved knowing she had been the first of his women to be ever be brought there.

Her eyes travelled up to the balcony where she had what could quite possibly be consideredthe most intense orgasm of her life. Her body ached at the thought.

She killed the ignition then grabbed her backpack off the passenger seat and walked slowly towards the mound of dirt piled at the foot of the treehouse.

Suddenly she couldn't breathe.

Seeing the grave with her own two eyes made it all too real, and too damn final.

She fell to her knees beside it and began sobbing.

Memories started flashing through her mind again, in no particular order, of all the times they shared together. It had been so short lived, yet in those two months, she had gone through a roller coaster of emotions and loved more fiercely than she ever  
had before.

He had not only awakened her sexually, worshipping her body like a precious treasure, but he opened her heart in ways no one else had been able to do since the apocalypse hit. And for someone as broken down and angry at the world as he had been because  
of his horrible past, he had changed along with her.

He had loved her.

Those had been his last words to her and as terribly heartbreaking as they were, they couldn't have been more perfect. Even though she had known for awhile he felt the same, hearing him say it aloud was the only tiny silver lining she was able to take  
out of the tragedy.

"I love you, Negan," she spoke through her tears, running her palm over the smooth dirt. "I love you and I miss you so much..."

It was slowing starting to sink in that she would never again get to feel those strong long arms around her, taste his passionate kisses or hear that voice which always seemed to soothe her, no matter the circumstance. Even on the frightening drive home  
with him the night he kidnapped her, she remembered it having such a calming effect on her nerves.

She would never again see that beautiful dimpled smile or hear that hearty chuckle.

She would never again get to lay beside him and make love to him, hearing him call her gorgeous and staring at her like she was the only woman in the world and the center of his universe.

Her sobs grew more intense and she lowered herself onto his grave, lying down with her arms outstretched and her cheek against the cold dirt. She longed to hold him, hear his heart beating, and feel that sense of security she always felt when in his arms.

"I don't want to go on without you... I thought I could... I was going to take off and settle down somewhere new, try to start over... But now... Being here...and knowing you're never coming back...it just hurts... It hurts waytoomuch..."

She curled up in the fetal position and lay there, paralyzed by her grief.

When her tears eventually seemed to dry up and she found herself somewhat clearheaded again, she knew what she wanted to do.

There was no other option.

She was sure of it now.

She sat up, didn't bother to brush the dirt from her face or clothes, and reached for her backpack. Unzipping it, she pulled out the small silver pistol she stole from Carol's house. It was the one she kept handy in the kitchen drawer by the window 'just  
in case'. She didn't feel bad about taking it. Alexandria still had a decent armory left even after turning half of it over to the Saviors.

Kneeling beside his grave, she slowly brought the gun up to her temple.

She had nothing to live for now.

She had no reason to get up in the morning and face another day.

Why settle for a life of pain and uncertainty in these dangerous times when she could finally be at peace again? She did believe in heaven, she had been somewhat religious in her past life. So what if there was a chance she could be reunited with her  
children up there? And with Negan as well?

It was too attractive an option to decline.

She was willing to take the risk and give it a try.

Worst case scenario, death was just a black oblivion.

It would still be a painless and peaceful existence  
compared to the hellshe was trapped in now.

Her finger settled on the trigger and her tears began to fall again.

"Negan," she moaned, "please don't be disappointed in me... I don't want to be a fighter anymore...not without you by my side... I'm not strong like you ... Call me a coward but I just want to end this...I just want to see you and Kate and Owen  
again..."

She was distracted by another wave of nausea so fierce that she dropped the gun and scooted away from the grave as fast as she could, vomiting forcefully in the grass off to the side. She retched three times in a row, each round worse than the last.

"You trying to tell me something?" she asked wryly once she had finished,wincing as she wiped her mouth. Kneeling back on her heels, she looked up at the sky. "Is this some sort of sign? Me puking my guts out when I'm trying to kill myself?"

Suddenly, she froze.

Her heart stopped for a brief second then took off at a galloping pace.

She slowly placed her hand over her stomach and, shaking her head, whispered softly, "There's no way..."

It was impossible.

So many years and exorbitant amounts of money spent trying to get pregnant... The doctors had told her she could never conceive on her own. So now, to have done it without medical help AND while on birth control pills?

Impossible.

She keep repeating that word over in her head because the doctor in her could not find any plausible explanation for it.

Yet it stillmade perfect, terrifying sense.

It wasn't the medication screwing up her insides.

She was pregnant. She was certain about it now.

She didn't even need to take a test to confirm it.

She had new life coursing through her veins.

Part of Negan now lived on inside of her.

She was carrying that kind of precious cargo Denise had spoken about and which she had been so quick to skeptically dismiss. Had Denise had an inkling all along? Had she been waiting for Fiona to figure it out on her own? It sure took her long enough  
to fit the pieces together.

She and Negan had created a life.

This baby was a miracle on so many counts and would be a living symbol of their love.

Her whole body trembling, she walked back over to the grave, kneeling down beside it.

"Got your message. Loud and clear." She laughed through her tears and was exhausted by the wide range of emotions she was currently experiencing.

She was still so heartbroken that he was gone and would never meet his child, she was terrified at the thought of having to raise that child in this apocalyptic world, yet she was awed by the symbolism and miracle of it all.

Picking up the gun, she turned it over in her hands a few times, clicked the safety, then placed it back in her bag. She wouldn't be needing it after all.

She could do this.

She NEEDED to do this.

She now had a reason to go on.

Her friends had killed him but he had left something behind for her.

Not his infamous bat, nor his leather jacket.

Something so much more powerful and meaningful.

She could only hope the baby, whether a girl or boy, inherited his beautiful dimpled smile.

"I love you," she whispered through her tears, laying back down on the dirt over his grave. "Thank you for this amazing gift."

She was so overwhelmed by her hormones and emotions that she didn't hear the sound of a trotting horse approaching.

"Excuse me? Ma'am? Are you okay?"

Fiona opened her tear-filled swollen eyes and lifted her head off the ground. A young blonde man wearing strange body armor was sitting atop a beautiful chestnut horse.

When she didn't answer, he dismounted the horse and slowly approached her with his hands outstretched to prove he meant no harm. His eyes took in the newly dug grave, her dirty tear streaked face and the gun peeking out of her backpack.

"My name is Cooper... Can I help you with anything?"

She sat up slowly and studied him. Between the armor, the horse, and the fact he seemed well groomed, he had to come from a community of sorts. He also appeared very non-threatening and kind. Rick had always taught her to be leery and mistrustful of strangers  
in this new world but that philosophy had turned him into a monster and Fiona wanted to be nothing like him now.

So, for lack of better options, she went with her instincts and decided to trust the man called Cooper.

"I'm Fiona...and I have nowhere to go..."

"I belong to a community called the Kingdom. It's a few miles north of here. Please let me take you back there. You can meet with our King and I'm sure he will find a place for you."

He held out his hand to help her to her feet, and she accepted, wiping her eyes and running a hand through her messy hair to tame it.

He stood a few heads taller than her and she looked up at him anxiously.

"I need a doctor, too... I'm... I'm...  
I'm pregnant."

Saying it aloud almost took her breath away.

His eyes widened in shock then grew sympathetic as they looked over her shoulder to the grave before returning to her face again. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Fiona. And yes, we have a wonderful doctor with us. He already delivered two babies this  
past year. So you and your little one will be in good hands."

He reached over to pick up her backpack and handed it to her.

She thanked him and put it on her shoulders. After one last wistful glance down at the grave with her hand covering her belly, she touched her lips and blew him a goodbye kiss. Then she let Cooper help her up onto the horse.

As they rode off together, Fiona struggled not to throw one last glance back at the treehouse because she was afraid she would start having second thoughts.

She needed to only look forward now, and keep reminding herself that it wasn't about her anymore.

She was now living solely for their unborn child.

And starting a new life in thiscommunity called The Kingdom would hopefully be the first step in the right direction.

THE END 

* * *

I always get a bittersweet feeling when I reach the end of one of my fics.

I'm so very grateful to all my readers and followers who, with your words of encouragement, praise and support, were my motivation to complete this story wayyyyy faster than I had expected.

I'm a big music fan,so whenever I write, I tend to find songs that either inspire plot ideas or fit so perfectly with my characters and the plotsI've already written. So my fics usually end up having playlists.

In case anyone is interested, here it is.

Renegade by Daughtry  
Love me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding  
Unsteady by X Ambassadors  
Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis  
Broken by Lifehouse  
Pieces by Rob Thomas

I'd love to give another go at a new fic. Was thinking of writing Negan's character more like how we see him on tv now since I now have a better idea of what he's supposed to be like. (I started this story after April's season finale so I knew nothing  
about him back thensince I don't read the comics).

If anyone wants to throw plot ideas at me PLEASEfeel free because I keep coming up empty. I WANT to write so badly but I'm just at a loss as to WHAT to write.

So help! Please!

Thanks again for accompanying me on this journey. Hope there will be another one soon.

Xoxoxoxoxo 


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